The Rental Agreement
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: For Rent - 2 bed, 2 bath, full kitchen. Clean, private, newly refurbished building in Diagon Alley. And Hermione and Draco both want it.
1. Chapter 1

New story. I still own nothing. Can't wait to read what you all think!

* * *

Chapter 1**  
For Rent  
2 bed, 2 bath, full kitchen.  
Clean, private, newly refurbished building in Diagon Alley**

Hermione Granger closed the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_ as she entered the flat listed in the classified ads. Someone was already there, getting a tour from the real estate agent. And it was someone Hermione recognized instantly. Even those who didn't know him could spot Draco Malfoy in a crowd just by the shade of his platinum blond hair.

"Granger," he greeted her with a tip of his head.

"Afternoon, Malfoy," she replied. "I'm surprised to see you here. Unless you're planning on buying the building."

A smirk appeared on his lips, but it wasn't the same smirk she had seen growing up with him. There was something friendly about it now. "Not a bad idea, Granger," he remarked. "Perhaps I should hire you to handle my investments."

Her cheeky smile rivalled his. "You already did," she pointed out. He closed the distance between them and embraced her. "It's good to see you out of the office. You spend far too much time there."

"I could say the same for you," he replied, pulling away so that only his arm was around her shoulders. "So, what are you doing here? Finally had enough of living with the Weasleys?"

He led her from the living room to the spacious kitchen. "It's been four years. I figured it was time for me to have a place of my own," she said, distracting herself by examining the cupboards. It had been four years of an on again, off again relationship with Ron Weasley, and four years of his mother, Molly, wondering when they would get their act together.

"Funny, I felt exactly the same way," he replied.

"Have you secretly been living at the Weasleys' house all this time?" she inquired, checking the sink tap to ensure the flat had good water pressure.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "No, I meant my parents' house," he explained. "It's a bit hard to have a social life when your parents can burst into the room at any moment."

Her face twisted in disgust. "I really didn't need to know about that," she replied, moving on to the first bathroom. She examined the new faucets and freshly laid tiles, imagining how she could soak in the clawfoot bathtub after a long day at work. And there would be no one to interrupt her. It would be her own personal, private, quiet space. There was nothing more appealing than that.

"Wait til you see the bedroom," Draco commented, coming up behind her. "That trail of drool will turn into a puddle."

Startled, she whirled around to face him. "Don't do that," she reprimanded as she followed him to the first bedroom. It was a large room with a walk-in closet and plenty of space for a desk. Yellow walls and white carpet, Hermione could picture herself coming home to that room everyday. "I want this place."

Draco, leaning against the doorway, replied, "Yeah, me too."

Defeated, Hermione sat down at the foot of the bed. There was no way she would get the place if Draco wanted it. His pockets were deeper, and the realtor cared only about money. "Oh," she said. "I, um, there's some work I need to finish up back at the office. I'll see you later?"

As she walked past, Draco reached for her arm and held her in place. "Take the afternoon off, Granger," he suggested. "No one deserves it more than you."

She shook her head and attempted to shake free of his hand. "No, it'll just be there tomorrow along with whatever else comes in," she excused. "I should really go."

Nodding, he let her go and watched her leave. The real estate agent joined him in the bedroom and asked for his opinion. "It's a really lovely space," he commented. "I'm going to need some time to think about it though. I can have the deposit to you soon."

Without awaiting a reply, Draco took off and Apparated back to the offices of Malfoy Incorporated. His office was located on the top floor of the twenty story building, and he had made sure Hermione had been placed in one just down the hall from him. He jogged, his shoes squeaking on the freshly waxed hardwood floors, until he stood outside of her closed door. He didn't knock. He never knocked.

The door opened and Hermione glanced up. "Will you never learn some manners?" She said it every time he entered her office, and he always replied with a shrug.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry."

Placing her quill down, she closed the file she had been reading when he interrupted. "Okay, you have my attention now," she stated. "What's wrong?"

Draco sat down and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. "We're friends, right?" he asked. A smile touched her lips as they both seemed to recall the exact moment their friendship had begun. When she nodded her head, he continued. "I saw the look on your face when you figured out that I could have that place if I wanted to. I've never really had friends before, not like you. That's not a blood status remark or anything. Please don't take it that way. I just mean that you and I have a real friendship, and I don't want to ruin that."

Brows furrowed, Hermione leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not sure I'm following, Draco."

"I just think that there are three solutions when it comes to that flat," he stated. "Option one - neither of us takes it. We accept the fact that every other place might pale in comparison, but at least we still have our friendship at the end of the day. Option two - we flip for it. No being a sore loser, no getting mad that the other one won."

Hermione shook her head. "What's the third option?" she inquired. "I don't much like either of those."

"We move in together."


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! I really hadn't expected the first chapter to get so much love. You guys are awesome!

* * *

Chapter 2  
Ginny Weasley, sister of Hermione's boyfriend, girlfriend of her best friend, surveyed the flat with Hermione a few steps behind. "Have you seen the view?" the young redhead asked, staring out from the front windows. "You'd see the entire alley from here. Imagine the things you'd see."

"Oh, if only I were one for gossip," Hermione mock-lamented.

"So, you said you wanted me to see this place because you have a very important decision to make," Ginny stated. "I've seen it. I love it. I want you to leave it to me should you die first. What could you possibly have to decide on?"

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "My roommate."

Blue eyes widened in surprise and joy. "Absolutely, Hermione!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I would love to. I can't tell you how my mother drives me crazy sometimes. This is perfect."

And with one little shake of Hermione's head, Ginny's hope deflated. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd take it that way," Hermione apologized. "Draco and I were talking and we both like it. There are two bedrooms and bathrooms. The only thing we'd have to share is the kitchen, and he's more of a takeout kind of guy than the type to cook a meal."

Disbelief was evident in Ginny's blue eyes. "You would rather live with Malfoy than us?" she asked. "_Malfoy_?"

"We're friends," Hermione replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"He's your boss," Ginny countered.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "We were friends first," she reminded the younger witch. "He needed help, so he hired me. Because we're friends."

But no one knew why. The war had ended, and Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger emerged as friends. The Death Eater had had a change of heart, and the Golden Girl had forgiven his past misdeeds for the sake of peace. No one knew that Draco had saved Hermione from his own father.

They'd met in an abandoned corridor, both teenagers intent on a small reprieve from the chaos of the battle. Both raised their wands, pointed at the other's heart, but neither let a curse fly. Draco was the first to lower his wand, breathing heavily as his hand fell to his side. Hermione followed suit, but held her breath as he neared.

"I don't want to hurt you," he had said, keeping his voice as calm as a war would allow. "I'm tired of fighting."

"Me too," she admitted.

He raised his hand to touch her forehead, tucking his sleeve around his hand. "You're bleeding," he told her as he pressed the fabric of his jacket to her head. "Funny, there's no mud in it at all. I can close it up for you. I've gotten pretty good at healing charms."

Hermione nodded. "Is that because you had to?" she wondered, eyeing his wand as he raised it. The tip touched the laceration, and as he whispered the spell to heal it, her skin felt cool and new.

"Yeah," he replied. "I guess I was too proud to allow any scars to show."

"It must have been-"

"Get down!" he shouted before she could finish her thought. "Stupefy!"

She saw a flash of red and turned to find Lucius Malfoy, Draco's own father, crumble to the ground. "Thank you," she whispered, as the pounding of her heartbeat drowned out her words in her ears.

"Stay safe, Granger," he replied before he turned and left.

They didn't see each other again until after the battle. The Malfoy family was huddled in the corner, out of the way of those in need of treatment. Most people paid them no mind, but as Hermione moved through the Great Hall, she spotted Draco. She offered him a smile and continued on. When she reached the doors, Draco caught up to her.

"Thank you for telling the Aurors what you told them," he said to her.

"You saved my life, Draco," she replied. "I only told them the truth."

He nodded sincerely as a grin quirked up his lips. "I'll see you soon," he promised. "Hermione."

Ginny's voice quickly pulled her from her thoughts. "Have you even considered what my brother might say about this?" she inquired. "You know he's never been happy that you and Malfoy struck up this odd friendship after the war. Plus, we both know Ron has a little issue with jealous tendencies. Shouldn't any of that bother you?"

Hermione stopped measuring the living room and placed her wand on the fireplace mantel. "I hadn't really thought about that," she murmured. "I don't really see it as being any different than if I were to room with Harry."

"Except for the fact that Ron likes Harry and hates Malfoy," Ginny retorted.

Hermione picked up her wand once more and continued to measure the living room. "Who's to say Ron and I will be together much longer," she said, dragging her wand from one end of the windows to the other. "Lately, it seems like we break up every two weeks."

"Do you want to be with Malfoy?" the younger witch asked, aghast by the very thought.

"Oh god, no," Hermione replied, aghast by _that_ thought.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness for that," she muttered.

Hermione glanced at her watch and quickly pocketed her wand. "Look, I'll tell Ron, but I have to go," she said hurriedly. "We'll talk later." She left quickly and returned to the office. Bypassing her own, she continued on down the hall until she reached Draco's door. After knocking, she let herself in.

"You and that annoying 'shave and a haircut' knock," he muttered.

Sitting down, she frowned. "You left out the best part," she groused.

He looked up and couldn't help the smile that appeared. "Two bits," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Now, why do you look so harried?"

"I was measuring our living room and wondering how we're going to make this work," she stated, biting nervously on her bottom lip. Had he heard her refer to it as "our" living room?

Judging by his growing smile, Draco had heard her. "Well, step one - we sign the lease," he replied.

"But rent," she interrupted. "Do we split it evenly? Do we base it on income? And what about groceries or furniture?"

Rising from his chair, he rounded the desk and knelt down in front of her. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he advised, taking her hands in his. "First off, are you saying yes to us living together?"

"I am," she confirmed.

"Okay, good," he replied. "Now, I had originally intended to buy the place instead of rent. If that's not something you want to do, then we don't have to. I don't mind paying more if you're worried about finances. I'm not good at food shopping, so I thought I'd leave that up to you for the time being. And we'll decorate together. I'm sure you've already got a thousand ideas for the place. Did I miss anything?"

Hermione pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think that's everything," she murmured in his ear.

"So, we can go sign the papers?" he asked.

"Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Hermione packed her belongings, lost in a haze of keep and throw away, when Ron entered the room she and Ginny shared. "You're really doing this?" he asked, a twinge of hope in his voice.

"Yes, I am," she replied, piling a few more sweaters into an overstuffed box.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "So, we'll have a place with a bit of privacy?" he murmured, placing a trail of kisses along her neck.

"Except when my roommate is there, sure," she mumbled, trying to dislodge his lips.

The topic of her roommate was one that came up often, and Hermione remained extremely tight lipped about it. While Ginny knew, she was sworn to secrecy. Ron would find out one day, but she wanted to make sure she was fully packed and moved out of the Burrow before telling him.

"I was thinking about asking Harry if I could move into Grimmauld Place with him," Ron stated, taking a seat on his sister's bed.

With her back turned to him, Hermione was sure she could get away with a roll of her eyes. "We both know you'd be back here in a week," she responded, hoping to sound cheeky rather than irritated. "I've tasted Harry's cooking. It's not great. Plus, neither one of you knows how to keep a house clean. Life with Harry won't be the same as living with your mum."

"Believe me, I know. I roomed with him for six years at school, and spent another in a tent with him," Ron replied with a chuckle. "Doesn't bother me though. I think it's about time I stopped living at home. What I don't understand is why you didn't ask _me_ to move in with you."

"Your mother would have a coronary if we did that," she pointed out, sealing up the last of her boxes. "Besides, I've already told you I won't live with a boyfriend."

Ron moved to the dresser and began collecting the picture frames. "It's not like I'm just a boyfriend, Mione. We've been best friends for over a decade," he stated. "And yeah, we've broken up before, but there's no saying we will again. Maybe living together would strengthen our relationship."

She took the frames from his hands, trying her hardest to keep her temper under control, and returned to her bed. "You're more than welcome to come over once we've settled in," she promised, hoping it would appease him for the time being and she could return to packing in peace.

"And are you ever going to tell me who your mystery roommate is?" he inquired, trying again to help her pack.

"I told you," she replied, taking her mother's jewelry box from his hands, "it's just a friend from work."

Ron nodded. "A friend you can't tell me, or anyone else in the family, about," he remarked. "It just seems a bit suspicious to me."

"How about you let me finish packing and we'll talk about this later?" she suggested, reining in her impatience. He muttered a quick "Fine" and left the room. She breathed a sigh of relief and finished loading up her last box. With her task complete, she sat down and looked around the room. The Burrow had never felt like home, and she was almost happy to leave. After her unsuccessful attempts to find her parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley had insisted she stay with them. It was supposed to be a temporary living situation, and now she was able to put an end to it.

The owl appeared at Draco's window just as the summer sun had begun to set. He recognized the bird. Hermione often used Ron's owl to send letters without her boyfriend knowing it. He smirked at her underhandedness, wondering if he had rubbed off on her. The note contained only two sentences - _Going to the flat. Meet me there?_ Without giving it a second thought, he Apparated to their new building.

The front door was open and Hermione's back was to him. Quietly, he inched into the living room and pounced on her. "Boo!" he whispered. Hermione shrieked and whirled around to face him, slapping his arm in retaliation. "Ow, sorry!"

"Don't do that," she said, placing her hand over her racing heart.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, and noticing the tears that threatened to spill, pulled her into his arms. "I meant it as a joke. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry, Hermione."

Sniffling, she pulled away. "No, it's fine. I overreacted," she replied. "Thanks for coming over, by the way."

Draco nodded. "Any reason you're here a day early?" he inquired. "Set your watch twelve hours ahead?"

Smiling despite the tears that still shone in her eyes, Hermione shook her head. "No, I just had to get out," she replied. "Molly had a big dinner to celebrate my moving on with my life. Ginny pestered me about what I was taking. And then there's Ron."

"What did he do?"

With a huff, she told him about her conversation with Ron while she packed. "He just...hovers," she said angrily. "What are you doing? Where are you going? Who will you be with? When will you finally figure out that Malfoy's a dirty, rotten git?"

"My, he thinks so little of me," Draco mused. "Why do you bother to stay with him? You're young, smart, beautiful, funny. You could have any guy you want. So, what makes Ron Weasley so special?"

It was a question she hadn't expected him to ask, and one she didn't seem to be able to answer. Ron showed an interest in her, and that was it. That was why she had struggled through four years to make things work. But that wasn't something she wanted to tell Draco. Instead she said, "He just is."

Draco quirked an incredulous eyebrow, but said nothing more. After all, he and his friends had spent much of their childhood making her feel badly about her blood status, her too large hair and teeth, her need to be the smartest person in the room. Weasley had stuck by her side through almost all of it. They had their spats, but friendship always prevailed.

"So, planning to spend the night here?" he inquired, helping her finish unpacking the box she had been working on when he came in. Hermione nodded and took the picture frame from his hand. With the box now empty, he pulled out his wand and transfigured it into a bed roll. "Sorry, I'm not much good at conjuring anything larger."

"It's fine," she assured him. She moved to another box and pulled out two blankets to cover it. Draco turned toward the door, ready to leave when she stopped him. "Will you stay? I'm not sure I want to stay alone in a new place."

Draco smiled and shut the front door. "Oh, I already planned to," he replied. "Just wanted to make sure I keep you safe."


	4. Chapter 4

So, I've decided to put _The Escape _on hold for the time being. After a certain point, I just wasn't feeling it anymore. I may pick it back up again in the future though.

* * *

Chapter 4  
The furniture had been delivered.

Draco's belongings hadn't.

"Honestly, how hard is it to show up at the appointed time with a few boxes?" he groused as he paced the living room.

"They're ten minutes late," Hermione pointed out as she rearranged the furniture until it was to her liking. "So, um, I told Ron he could come over after we were all moved in. Is that okay? If he comes by tonight?"

Frowning, he moved to the large window and stared down at the people below. "You don't need my permission," he muttered. "I'll be out anyhow."

Hermione nodded and returned to the task at hand, moving the couch so it was below the window. He turned and scowled at her when it bumped his hip, and received a smile in return. "Your face will freeze like that if you aren't careful," she cautioned. "Now, why don't you move away from the window so I can place the couch down. And feel free to pick up a wand and help me with this. It'll make the time pass a bit quicker."

He did as she asked, but never dropped the frown. The living room and bedroom furniture was assembled and arranged by the time his boxes arrived. "What do you think Weasley's gonna do when he finds out I'm your mystery roommate?" Draco asked as she helped him unpack.

"Drag me by the hair, kicking and screaming, back to the Burrow," she guessed as she lined his drawer with sweaters. "Honestly, I don't understand why he gets so upset that we're friends. Harry has accepted it. Ginny's still a bit fuzzy on the idea. But Ron acts like we're still first years and you're running around calling me a mudblood while pulling my hair."

"Hmm, that sounds kind of kinky," he replied. "Might have to use that one day."

Hermione shot him an unamused glare. "And I hope she hexes your bits off," she retorted.

"None of my female companions have ever complained," he told her. Hermione pretended to retch into his drawer, and received a pillow to the back for her dramatics. She returned the pillow with equal force, hitting him in the face. They continued their task in silence until they finished and retired to the living room.

Sinking down onto the plush sofa, Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, exhausted from a long day of moving and unpacking. Rest was all she wanted. It was also something she wouldn't get for awhile. She expected a fight when Ron arrived, and wondered if she should keep Draco away for his own safety.

Safety. It was the crux of their friendship. Draco kept her safe, protected her from his father, defended her in public. But she never truly understood why. And Draco wanted to keep it that way. He never spoke of the horrors he saw in his family's home. Her knowledge of those atrocities were limited to her own experience, and he needed to make sure it stayed that way. She had her own nightmares; she didn't need the burden of his as well.

"What's on your mind?" she asked when he joined her. "You look like you're a million miles away."

"Um, the walls," he said quickly. "Just wondering how thin they are."

She quirked an eyebrow, one that said she didn't believe him. "Afraid you'll hear Ron and me fight all night?"

"Hardly," he replied with a laugh. "More afraid I'll hear the two of you shagging."

Her cheeks warmed and began to turn red. "Um, there's no...uh...need to worry about that," she mumbled.

"I was only kidding," he assured her.

Draco knew the most intimate details of Hermione's relationship with Weasley; none of them by choice. She had told him everything one drunken night a year after the war. The relationship that seemed so perfect to everyone else was the exact opposite for her. Ron enjoyed the attention that being Harry Potter's best friend brought. Free drinks and dinners, Quidditch tickets whenever he wanted to attend a match, and more money than his family had ever seen. He became consumed by it, leaving Hermione on her own most of the time. By her accounts, he hardly ever kissed her anymore unless it was to sell their romance.

"Do you ever worry that things will never feel normal again?" she asked.

Blond brows furrrowed and he reached for her hand. "Us being friends isn't normal," he pointed out. "Do you want that to change?"

"No, that part I like," she replied with a smile. "It's just other things. After the mess with my parents, Molly tried to take me in. It just never felt the same. And then Ron after the war...he's not the same boy I grew up with."

"I'm not either," he reminded her.

She shifted to place her head on his shoulder. "True, but you changed for the better," she said. "I thought I loved Ron, but maybe I don't. At least, not the way I should."

Draco gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to stay with him, Hermione. If you're not happy, you shouldn't have to pretend you are."

She shook her head and lifted it from it's place on his shoulder. "We break up for good and I lose him as my friend," she replied. "Which also means I lose the Weasleys. They're the closest thing I have to a family now. And Harry, he'll be forced to choose sides. I can't put him in the middle of another battle."

"I've seen how much Potter cares about you," Draco said. "He loves you. He respects you. I don't think he'd be caught in the middle, and if he were, he'd be smart enough not to choose between you and Weasley. If there's one thing Harry can do, it's sway people to his side. And I also think he'd tell you that you shouldn't stay with Weasley just because you're afraid of losing your friend."

He rose from the couch as she replied, "Yeah, you're probably right," with as little gusto as possible.

A frown momentarily appeared on his face. "One more thing," he told her before he prepared to walk away, "I know I'm not much, but you'll always have me."


	5. Chapter 5

Happy Friday! CVS had a 3 bags for $7 sale on candy. I love Halloween.

* * *

Chapter 5  
Hermione nervously brought Ron over to her new flat, expecting and preparing herself for the inevitable argument. He said nothing as he looked around, picked up picture frames and little knick-knacks, and tested the comfort of the sofa. "So, where is he?" Ron asked, settling himself down on the soft leather.

"Who?" she asked.

"Don't play dumb, Mione," he admonished. "You're too good for that. I already saw the picture of him and his family on the mantel. I'm smart enough to figure out that Malfoy's gotta be your roommate."

"Fine, he's at work," she stated. "I never realized just how late he stays there. And you thought I worked too much."

He nodded and stood. "So, this whole situation," he said uneasily. She left for the kitchen under the guise of preparing dinner. But Ron was sure he saw her roll her eyes as she passed him. "I'm not sure I'm okay this."

That she expected. The hesitancy in his voice, she had not. Pulling a pan of breaded fish from the oven, she set it atop the stove and shut her eyes. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security? He seemed more hurt than angry. But Hermione had seen how quickly his mood could change, and anticipated anger's quick arrival.

He joined her in the kitchen and eyed the dinner she was preparing. "I didn't know you could cook, like really cook. Have you ever cooked like this?" he wondered. But it was what he left out that lingered in the air between them. What he wanted to ask was "Have you ever cooked like this for him?"

"Only on a special occasion," she replied, moving the food to the table. "Without your mum around, I guess I should get used to it though. This is the first time I've cooked in here actually. We've just been here the one day. Well, I guess it's been more like twelve hours."

Ron took a seat across from her and helped himself to a small piece of fish and a helping of mashed potatoes. "Looks good," he commented, raising a forkful of potato to his mouth. "Doesn't taste bad either. Much better than the stuff we ate that year on the run."

"The conditions are better," she pointed out. They ate in silence until she finished and could no longer bear the false niceties. "Okay, just get it out. What's wrong with you?"

Ron scoffed and smirked. "What's wrong with me?" he repeated, mulling over her question. "What's wrong is my girlfriend of four years is living with our childhood enemy. What's wrong is he's a Death Eater. What's wrong is he should be in prison, not running one of the most profitable companies and employing my girlfriend. He wants to be in your life because it makes him look good. It's how he managed to get the charges dropped at his trial, it's how he somehow manages to maintain public support. It's because of you."

"It has nothing to do with me!" she argued. "He took over the company at 18, and didn't hire me for another two years after that. He was successful long before I got there. And, if you hadn't noticed, the war is over. Draco never wanted to be a Death Eater. He was forced to become one. I think it's high time you stopped using that against him."

He pushed away from the table. "I don't understand how you can defend him," he muttered. "I don't understand how you can be friends with him or share a flat with him. He was awful to you. You know he was."

Hermione rose and began to clear away the plates. "As I recall, you said I was a nightmare, a know-it-all, and completely insufferable on more than one occasion," she replied. "At least Draco apologized for what he did to me."

"And I haven't?"

She sighed tiredly. "No, Ron, you haven't," she said. "You've been kind to me. You've fought alongside me. But do you remember when I would do something you didn't like? You would shut me out for weeks. Those are the things you've never apologized for."

As she turned back to the dishes in the sink, Ron remained seated. After ten years of friendship, it shocked him to just now find out that his behavior had hurt her. He had always found their arguing to be friendly, but she hadn't. "I'm sorry, Mione," he finally said. "A lot of the time, I thought I was just teasing you. Harry never seemed hurt when I'd give him guff. I guess I just assumed you took it that way too."

"Well, I didn't," she replied, shutting off the faucet. "I spent so many nights crying over the things you'd say, or worse, the things you didn't say. I loved you long before I allowed myself to realize it, Ron. There were days you were my best friend, and others when I thought you saw me as your mortal enemy."

Rising from his chair, he crossed the kitchen and stood before her. "I really am sorry, Hermione," he murmured, placing his hands on her waist. "You know I love you, but I know I don't say it enough."

"Do you love me enough to trust me?" she asked. "It bothers you - me living with Draco. I need you to know you have nothing to worry about. He and I are just friends, and he really is good to me. He would never do anything to hurt me."

Ron nodded, wanting to believe her. "I trust you," he assured her. "It's Malfoy I don't trust. I'm never gonna like him, Mione. He's not the great guy you seem to think he is."

Shaking her head, she pulled away from him and moved out of the kitchen. "And he's not the evil being you think he is."

"We're never gonna agree on this," he lamented as he followed her to the living room. "I don't think you should live with him. Maybe it would be better if you moved back home."

"The Burrow isn't my home, Ron," she replied. "It never was. I'm happy here, and I'm going to stay here."


	6. Chapter 6

I wanted to bake yesterday, but couldn't find all the ingredients. So, baking day will be today. After work. Yeah, we'll see.

* * *

Chapter 6  
Malfoy Manor buzzed with excitement. Narcissa Malfoy's birthday had, before the war, been one of the biggest social events of the year. No one else's gathering could hold a candle to the Malfoy matriarch's, and it was a source of pride for the regal blonde. Despite the family's fall from favor for their alignment with the Dark Lord, it seemed she was finally beginning to reclaim her place in society.

But what excited Narcissa the most was that her son would finally join the celebration. With her husband still in Azkaban for his crimes, Draco was the only family she had left. Tensions had run high between mother and son following the war. Though news of his actions were never made public, Narcissa knew that Draco had stunned his father. The elder Malfoy had returned to her, bleeding from the head, and shared his suspicions that their son was aiding the mudblood. Draco readily confirmed it, insisting that people like Hermione Granger weren't the enemy. He had saved her from his father because it was the right thing to do.

Following Lucius's incarceration, Draco remained at home with his mother, but kept his distance. He stayed out until all hours of the nights, ignored her request for family dinners, and brought home a new girl every night. But there was one woman in his life that his mother approved of, and she was Hermione Granger.

"Mother, we're here," Draco called out, his voice carrying to her second floor sitting room. She smiled and descended the stairs to greet her son and his guest. "It's alright that I brought Hermione, isn't it?" he asked, greeting her with a kiss to each cheek.

Narcissa smiled warmly and pulled the younger witch into a hug. "It was mandatory," she replied. "You're surly and unapproachable when you're here by yourself. Hermione has a knack for making you seem like a decent human being."

"One minute here, and you're already insulting me, Mother," he stated. "New record?"

"Hardly," his mother scoffed. "Now, why don't the two of you put your things down in Draco's room. You can change there for the party."

Before Draco could make a smart comment at his mother's expense, Hermione thanked her and led him upstairs. "Be nice," she admonished.

"Why are we even here?" he asked, shutting his bedroom door behind himself. "Why are _you_ here? Isn't Weasley angry enough at you?"

Hermione shrugged and laid her dress bag down on the bed. "We're here because family is important," she replied. "_I'm_ here because, like your mother said, I keep you in line. And yes, Ron is angry that you and I are living together. There being a wall and doors that lock between us is a concept that has escaped him."

"When I came home, he took one look at me, turned around, and left," Draco recalled. "When exactly did you figure out the depths of his dimness?"

She unzipped the bag and removed the dress to hang up. "According to you I should have figured it out about ten years ago," she retorted. "Hand me your suit. We talked in great length while you were still at work. He's afraid you'll take advantage of me, kill me in my sleep, or turn me against Harry and the entire Weasley family and make me into some kind of mindless slave."

"Because I have time for any of that with the amount of hours I put in at work," he groused, handing over his outfit. "So, what happens now? You tell him to get over it and he does because the people expect you to be together?"

Shaking her head, she moved to the ensuite bathroom and began to set out a regimen of hair care supplies. "It's not like that, Draco," she replied. "Yes, sometimes he makes me mad and I wish we weren't together. But Ron's always been good to me even when we were broken up. Staying with him has nothing to do with public perception. Not for me anyhow."

With a tired sigh, Draco said, "I never thought you were that girl, Hermione."

"And just exactly what kind of girl am I being?" she inquired defensively, stepping back into the room.

"The kind of girl who stays with a guy because she's afraid no one else will want her," he stated before retiring to the bathroom.

She stared at the closed door with wide eyes radiating shock and anger. Marching over, she let herself in and glared at him. "I am _not_ that kind of girl," she said, not caring that he was half dressed and the shower was running. "Ron and I are happy together. That's why I'm with him."

"That's not what you've said a thousand times before," he reminded her. "You don't love him. You said it yourself. So, either stay with him and quit complaining, or find someone else."

"Because it's that easy," came her sarcastic reply.

"Yeah, Hermione, it is that easy," he stated, adjusting the water to get the right temperature. "I can name at least five guys from work who would kill to go out with you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure they would. I'm Harry Potter's best friend," she replied. "I can guarantee that they don't want to go out with me for me, but because they want to meet him. I've done this song and dance before, Draco. Being with Ron...it's just easier than wondering if the guy has any interest in me."

"So, you'd pick comfort over happiness," he said flatly.

"I pick loyalty," she retorted. "Yes, we've had our problems, but Ron's always been loyal. Make fun of Gryffindor all you want, but at least that was a trait we understood."

He nodded sarcastically. "Right, I forgot you Gryffindors had a monopoly on that particular trait," he replied. "No one else in the world could possibly understand it if they hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor. My god, Granger, what would you do if you met someone who didn't attend Hogwarts?"

Scoffing, she backed out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway. "So, I'm Granger again, am I?" she asked. "That's fine. I'm tired of this argument. Take your shower, Malfoy."

Turning, she closed the door behind her and returned to his room. It was going to be a long weekend.


	7. Chapter 7

I was in the elevator with a friend, and she asked me if I watched the Presidential debate last night. I didn't. Dancing with the Stars was on, and that seemed so much more important.

* * *

Chapter 7  
"Where's Draco?" Narcissa asked when Hermione came down to breakfast the next morning.

"Still sleeping," she replied through a yawn before apologizing.

The older blonde, well put together despite the early hour, nodded and stirred her tea. "Things seemed chilly between the two of you last night," she observed. "Is everything alright?"

Taking a seat across from her, Hermione nodded and helped herself to the breakfast spread. Draco was the last person she wanted to discuss, especially with his mother. The two witches weren't particularly close, and his mother wasn't someone she thought she could confide in. But she had been kind and opened her home to Hermione regularly.

"Everything's fine," she eventually said, adding a smile for good measure.

Skepticism shone through in Narcissa's blue eyes, an emotion she wasn't embarrassed to allow the young witch to see. Then she added, "I don't believe you." Hermione stared at her wide-eyed, and Narcissa continued. "No one knows my son as well as I do. Though, I would wager that you're a close second. Draco is stubborn and used to having things go his way. But loyalty is a trait he has in spades. And I know he's loyal to you."

"I know that," Hermione replied softly.

"Then have a little faith in him," his mother advised. "Whatever it is that the two you argued about, trust that he only wants what's best for you. Honestly, I've never seen him so protective of anyone. You're so lucky that you get to know that side of him."

Hermione knew that as well. After the war, it was Draco who sought her out. He had called for a truce between them, and vowed that he had abandoned the beliefs taught to him by his father. For four years, they enjoyed an unstrained friendship; one that was unencumbered by their past. But outside of their friendship, their lives hadn't merged. Her friends remained wary of Draco, while most of his maintained their Pureblood mentalities. Harry and Blaise Zabini were the only two to give the pair's friendship a chance.

"Draco's my best friend," she stated. "Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without him. There were so many times when I couldn't talk to Harry or Ron, but I knew Draco would listen. He always listens. I think he might not want to anymore though."

Behind her, Hermione heard someone clear his throat, and turned to find Draco standing in the doorway. "Come here," he requested. Placing her napkin on the table, she rose and slowly walked toward him as if he were the executioner. When she was close enough, he reached out and took her hands. "You and I will be in each other's lives for a long time. I'm sticking around until you tell me to leave. We're gonna fight, we're gonna have days when we don't get along, we're gonna have days when we swear to the highest heavens that we hate each other. But I know we'll still be friends when all is said and done."

"Can we not fight about this again?" she requested.

He dropped her hands and slid his arms around her waist. "I make no promises," he murmured. "But I'll put a moratorium on it for now."

"Thank you," she replied as she returned his hug.

He led her back to the table and sat down beside her. "So, what horrible things has my mother been telling you?" he inquired.

Hermione bumped his shoulder as he loaded up his plate. "Don't pretend that you weren't standing there listening to everything she said," she chided. "You know she only has wonderful things to say about you."

"I actually only heard what you had to say," he told her as he speared the sausage link she had left on her plate. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"I wasn't much better last night," she admitted.

"The both of you acted like sullen, petulant children last night," Narcissa interjected. "It was almost refreshing, really. The two of you are always so sweet to each other. My guests found the change in attitude rather entertaining."

Draco rolled his eyes. Good gossip was to his mother what air was to everyone else. It sustained her. "Glad our pain could keep you so amused," he replied facetiously. "Rest assured, Mother, that was a one time occurrence."

"Well, I'm glad everything has worked out between the two of you," she said. "It can be difficult to live with someone when you aren't getting along. And with the two of you living in such close quarters, well, I imagine that would make the situation even worse. Are you still with the Weasley boy, Hermione?" Choking on her juice, Hermione nodded as she coughed. "Is it safe to assume that was what the argument was about?"

"It's none of your business, Mother," Draco replied tersely.

Narcissa held her hands up in surrender. "Fine, it's none of my business," she stated as she rose from the table. "Draco, come see me before you leave. There's something I'd like to discuss with you privately."

They watched the older woman leave then turned to one another. "What do you reckon that's about?" Hermione wondered.

Shaking his head, Draco muttered, "No idea. Better go see what she wants. Would you mind packing everything up so we can head out as soon as I'm done?" Hermione nodded and received a kiss on the cheek for her effort. Draco left the dining room and took the stairs to the second floor and his mother's private room. "You wanted to see me?"

"You have feelings for her," his mother stated, getting right to the point.

Draco's brows furrowed as he shut the door behind him. "She's my best friend," he replied, confusion hanging from his every word. "Of course my feelings toward her are positive."

"The rumor around town is the Weasley boy intends to propose soon," Narcissa continued. "Publicly, I might add. I know you don't agree with their relationship."

"Are you suggesting I tell her about this, or that I convince her not to say yes?" he wondered.

A mischievous smile graced his mother's face. "That all depends - do you want her to say no?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "I want her to be happy," he replied. "If marrying him makes her happy, then that's all that matters. Right?"

Narcissa shrugged, believing in her heart that he wasn't right. She crossed the room and sat down on the loveseat. "I think," she decided, "that she would be much happier with you."


	8. Chapter 8

I have nothing to do, the office is too quiet, and I've been writing up a storm. So, enjoy another chapter!

* * *

Chapter 8  
The bright bolt of lightning and the boisterous clap of thunder woke Hermione from a restless sleep. Her heart raced. "Suck it up, Hermione," she muttered to herself. "It's just a storm. Nothing to be afraid of."

It was her mantra every time a storm arose. But the fear never dissipated. It had started when she was a student at Hogwarts. The castle was old and dreary, and a thunderstorm always added an eerie chill to the place. The thunder would shake the castle to its very foundation and the lightning was known to strike the building. Her year on the run with Harry and Ron only served to exacerbate her fear. Tent living scared her on the calm nights; the fear of imminent capture always at the forefront of her mind. But the nights when a storm hit intensified her fear that they would soon be caught.

Her door squeaked open and a tousled blond head poked through the crack. "You okay?" he asked.

A wave of relief rushed over her at the sight of her best friend. No one understood her fear quite like Draco. When they lived apart, he often received letters or floo calls from her in the middle of the night asking if she could come over. He always said yes, often sending his latest companion home before she arrived.

"No," she replied, gasping as another clap of thunder reverberated around the room.

He closed the door and walked over to her bed. No words needed to be exchanged. He knew what she needed. Pulling back the blanket, he slid into her bed. "Just try to ignore it," he told her as she moved into his waiting arms. "You're safe. The storm can't get to you."

"I know," she murmured.

"You know I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you," he continued, tightening his hold on her as she shivered.

She glanced up at him in the dark and smiled. "I know that too."

"Good," he replied. "Now, shut your eyes and try to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

As she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her, she heard his continued mantra - you're safe, I'm here, sleep.

The storms continued for the rest of the week, and each night they retired to her bed together. She never needed to ask him to accompany her, and he never doubted that she might not want him to join her. Rain pummelled the windows as they climbed into bed and Hermione turned off the lights.

"What did you do before we were friends?" he wondered, holding her in the dark.

"You mean on nights like this?" she clarified. "At school, I spent a lot of time in the common room. I never could sleep through the storms. Being as high up as Gryffindor Tower was, I was always afraid that we'd get struck by lightning or something. So, I would stay up and read or finish homework."

"What about when you were home? Or with the Weasleys?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "The same thing thing I did at school," she replied. "It wasn't until you and I became friends that I was able to sleep through them. Molly used to seal Ron's door shut from the outside when we started dating. I think she was afraid we'd get into trouble while we were under the same roof."

"And yet you were sneaking out and flooing into my bedroom," he pointed out. "Think she ever knew about it?"

"Hard to say," she said thoughtfully. "Harry knew. Well, he knew I wasn't sleeping there some nights. He caught me sneaking back in one morning before anyone else was up. He promised he wouldn't tell anyone, and he never asked where I went."

"Would you have told him if he did ask?"

It didn't take her long at all to reply. "No," she said. "He understands our friendship, but he's loyal to Ron. If he knew I was sneaking out to sleep in another man's bed, he most certainly would have let Ron know. We had enough problems without adding you to the mix."

"I don't know. You two seem to be doing fine now," he replied, his hold loosening.

Hermione draped her arm across his stomach. "Things aren't the same," she confided. "He's been so...cagey every time we've seen each other. Like he's hiding something. Do you think he wants to break up?"

Sighing, he shook his head and let go of her completely. Perplexed, Hermione sat up and stared down at him. "He'd be an idiot to break up with you, Hermione," was all he said. Then he tugged on her forearm, silently asking her to lie back down. He didn't attempt to hold her, but she rested her head on his shoulder anyhow.

"I don't care if we break up," she admitted. "I just don't want to be the one who has to do it."

"Because then you lose all of them," he said for her. She nodded, and with each downward motion of her head, her chin dug into his arm. "Would you still want them if Ron dumped you?"

Once more she sat up and stared at the window pensively. It hadn't occurred to her that _she_ might not want _them_. She wanted a family, and the Weasleys filled that role. But what if Ron were to break up with her, and it was awful? The very idea of being around the family after that made her feel uncomfortable. "Maybe not," she replied. "I'd never really thought about it."

"Maybe this isn't the time to think about it," he suggested. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

But his Slytherin mind knew exactly why he had brought it up. His mother's whispered rumors of a proposal plagued him. Weasley would never be good enough for her, and she would never be happy as his wife. He feared she would accept it just to hold onto some semblance of a family. He needed to convince her that the Weasleys weren't the only answer, that Ron wasn't her only choice.

And he needed to do it soon.


	9. Chapter 9

I started working on something new today. My goal is to post tomorrow, but we'll see.

* * *

Chapter 9  
Hermione arrived home from dinner with Harry long after Draco had returned from work. His bedroom door was closed and no light shone under the door. She wondered if he had fallen asleep in his own bed. Since that stormy week, he had taken to sleeping in her bed even on the calm nights. There had been something comforting to the both of them to have the other close by. But from the sound of it, Draco had found someone else to warm his bed, at least for the night.

An unfamiliar twinge of emotion settled in her stomach as she entered her bedroom on the left. Pulling her wand from her sleeve, she cast noise cancelling charms around the room to drown out the sounds of copulation coming through their shared wall. After changing into her pajamas, she pulled back the blankets and slipped into her bed. The sheets were cold, and it was Draco's familiar warmth and scent that was missing. She stared at the door, wondering if the girl had gone. And when she left, would her door open? Would Draco climb into bed beside her and hold her until they awoke the next morning? Did she really want him to after he'd been with someone else?

And the answer, she realized, was yes, she did want him to come to her. The nights he laid beside her were the nights she slept best. There were no nightmares, no cold sweats, no fear of something lurking in the dark. Draco had promised to keep her safe, and safe was what she felt in his arms.

So, when the door opened and Draco slipped in, she wasn't bothered by the fact that he had just shagged someone else. "Sorry if we were loud," he said, standing by her still open door. "She just left so it'll be quieter now."

She nodded to let him know she wasn't bothered by the noise. A brief smile later, and he turned to leave. "Wait," she said. He turned and waited for her to continue. "Will you stay with me tonight? It's been a long day and I haven't seen you at all."

Draco sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He had expected her to be mad. Since they had started sleeping in the same bed, he hadn't brought anyone home. He hadn't planned to bring a girl back that night, but after a few drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, it hadn't seemed like a bad idea. Hermione, he knew, wouldn't be home for hours, and he had planned to get rid of - he couldn't remember her name - long before she came back. But things hadn't gone according to plan, and yet Hermione was still asking him to share her bed.

"I'm just going to take a shower first," he told her. He backed out of her room and turned toward the bathroom down the hall. Once the door was shut and locked, he leaned against it and shut his eyes. He cursed himself for his stupidity. It was a moment of weakness, and he would take it back if he could. He bathed quickly and returned to his room to change. "I didn't think you'd want me to sleep in here," he admitted when he entered her room.

"Last I checked, it would be hypocritical of me to kick you out for shagging someone else," she retorted.

Draco climbed into bed. "I thought you and Weasley weren't shagging," he replied.

"No, but he's still in the picture," she pointed out. "Does it bother you? That I'm still with him, but I live with you and we share a bed every night?"

He turned onto his side to face her. "No, but I think it bothers you," he said. Her brows furrowed and she opened her mouth to protest. "No, it does, because otherwise you wouldn't have brought it up. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing. You're my best friend, Hermione. I'd never do anything to ruin that."

"This doesn't bother me," she replied, her index finger pointing to him then herself. "What bothers me is that it doesn't bother me. It _should_ bother me. If it were Ron in bed with another girl, even if they were just sleeping, I _should_ care."

"Should?" he asked.

Sighing, she turned over to lie on her back. "Yeah, should," she repeated.

"But you don't."

"If it were actually happening, no, I don't think I would," she replied.

Draco shifted, supporting his weight on his right elbow as his left hand reached for hers. The room was silent except for their breathing. There were questions he wanted to ask, things he wanted to say, but he held back. It was already too tense without furthering the conversation.

"Play hooky with me tomorrow," he suggested. "We'll spend the day doing absolutely nothing but relaxing. We won't think about work or any other grown up responsibilities."

There was a smile on her face when she turned over to face him. "But what will I tell my boss?" she wondered. "He's not a fan of unplanned absences."

"Your boss is a bit of a tight arse, isn't he," Draco remarked. "Well, tell him he can stuff it if he's got a problem with it. What do you say? Spend the day with me tomorrow?"

"I do have to get Harry a birthday present," she said. "It's coming up pretty soon and I haven't even begun to think of gift ideas. But, hey, you're a guy. You should be able to help. I'm sure Harry would love to not receive another book."

Draco chuckled. "Well, that proves my theory that you like me better," he teased. "I've yet to receive a book from you. Although, the Quidditch tickets were a bit extravagant. We really didn't need box seats."

"Yeah, I got those from Flint," she confessed. "He's one of the few friends of yours who doesn't look down on me. Told me he'd set me up with tickets to any game I'd like. There was also an offer to tour his flat, but I turned that down."

"Smart thinking," he murmured. Sighing, he let his head hit the pillow and closed his eyes. "Guys like Flint aren't good enough for you."

Hermione listened as his breathing evened out and she softly caressed his cheek. "Are you good enough for me, Draco?" she wondered as her own eyes slid shut.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
Laughter filled the hat shop as Hermione placed a rather large, rather floral headpiece on Draco. "Come on, you think Harry wouldn't like this one?" she asked, holding her side as a stitch formed from laughing so hard.

Scowling, he removed it from his head and placed it on hers. "There, now tell me it doesn't look absolutely ridiculous," he said, positioning her in front of the mirror. "Who the hell would buy this monstrosity? And why are we in here looking for Potter's birthday gift?"

She placed the hat back on the display rack and smoothed down her brown curls. "It was your idea to come in here," she reminded him.

"I was pointing to the Quidditch shop next door," he stated. "Why would I suggest you buy him a woman's hat?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because deep down you still hate Harry?" she guessed. "I don't know. I was curious as to your reasons for wanting to come in, so I just followed. And now that you mention it, the Quidditch shop is probably a much more appropriate place to find him a gift."

Rolling his eyes, he pulled her arm through his and led her out of the shop. "You think?" he replied, poking her side with his free hand. They entered the shop next door and he dragged her to each display, pointing out the merits of buying each item. Hermione shook her head, growing more frustrated the farther they moved into the store. "Nothing?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"Don't be," he assured her. "If there's nothing here you like, we'll go somewhere else. We have all day to find something."

"Well, I did have something in mind, but you can say no if you want," she said uneasily. He raised his eyebrows as if to say that he was listening, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "There's a bakery in muggle London that Harry loves. They make the best blueberry scones. Maybe we could go there?"

A soft smile crested on his lips as he took her hand in his own. "Of course we can," he replied. "You'll have to be in charge though. Let me know if I'm doing anything wizard-y. Can't afford to get caught using magic in the muggle world."

Hand in hand, they left the Quidditch store for The Leaky Cauldron. "Don't worry, Draco. I won't let anything bad happen to you," she promised.

He opened the door and held it for her, pressing his lips to her temple before she entered. "I thought it was my job to take care of you," he commented.

Hermione shook her head as they walked through the pub. "We're friends. It's okay if we take care of one another," she replied. "Besides, the company would go under if you were arrested for using magic in front of muggles. Then I would be out of a job, I would lose our flat, and I'd have to move back in with the Weasleys. So, my reasons for watching out for you are purely selfish."

He laughed loudly as they stepped out into the streets of London. "It's official - you and I have been friends for too long," he lamented. "I've rubbed off on you, and it's to your detriment."

"Weren't you the one who said it was alright to be a bit selfish once in awhile?" she reminded him. "And if it means I get to keep you, then I'll be as selfish as can be."

He squeezed her hand. "I'd be lost without you too," he admitted.

"I never said I'd be lost without you," she pointed out cheekily. "I just want to keep you."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "Except to a bakery to buy the greatest blueberry scones the world has ever tasted. So, lead the way, Ms. Granger."

Fifteen minutes later, they left the bake shop with two dozen scones. "What will you do if you don't like them?" she wondered, holding his free hand.

Draco shrugged. "Give them to Potter?" he guessed. "I hear he's got a birthday coming up."

She gave a hearty laugh as they strolled through London. "So, um, speaking of Harry's birthday," she said nervously. "Do you want to come to the party?"

His grip on her hand loosened, but he maintained contact. "I don't think that's a good idea," he replied with a weary sigh. "Yeah, Potter and I have stopped hexing one another in bathrooms, but that doesn't mean I'm welcome. Weasley won't even come over to see you because I'm there. As far as I know, none of them have been to our place since we moved in. That sends a pretty clear message."

"Did you ever stop to consider that I didn't invite them because _I_ didn't want them to come over?" she inquired. "It's not like I've asked any of them to see the place and they've flat out turned me down. Ron's the only one who's been over."

"So, then, what? Are you ashamed to be living with me?" he wondered.

She stopped walking and tugged on his arm until he turned to face her. "Nothing could be further from the truth," she told him, using her free hand to pull his chin up so she could look him in the eye. "There is nothing you could do that would make me ashamed of you. Well, kicking animals of any kind would make me pretty upset. So, I guess there is something. But the point I'm trying to make is living with you, seeing you every day, makes me happy. I don't care who knows that we're roommates."

"Then why?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and let go of his chin. She looked away as her hand rested on his chest. "Because I already know what they think," she replied. "And I don't care what they think. I'm just tired of hearing it. I like being happy. We both spent far too long being unhappy."

Draco let go of her hand and moved his to her cheek. "I'm happy with you," he murmured. "I like who I am when I'm with you."

She stared into his eyes as he leaned into her. They began to close and she knew what was coming. It couldn't happen, she told herself. He couldn't kiss her. Everything would change if he did. Everything would be ruined. And she couldn't have that. She needed her best friend.

Reaching up, she held his wrist and pulled his hand away from her face. "Don't, Draco," she whispered. "Please don't."


	11. Chapter 11

I have a feeling some people are gonna hate me. You'll see what I mean when you finish the chapter.

* * *

Chapter 11  
The party was in full swing when Hermione and Draco arrived. Harry was the first to greet them, throwing his arms around Hermione then shaking Draco's hand. "Really glad you could make it," Harry told him. "Listen, we were talking about putting a pick up Quidditch game together. You interested? It could be just like the old days. Me catching the Snitch, you...not catching it."

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

Whatever unease Draco felt melted away. "It's fine," he said. "I'm in. It'll give me a chance to redeem myself against the great Harry Potter."

Harry shrugged, a bemused grin on his face. "Whatever you say, Malfoy," he replied. "Anyhow, come on in, get a drink, eat something. Molly's been slaving away for a week despite the fact that I was perfectly content to get take away. So, yeah, there's plenty for all of England to eat."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, squeezing his arm as she passed.

"I wouldn't thank me yet," Harry replied, stopping her in her tracks. "Ron's here."

She took the news with as little care as possible. "Well, he is your best friend," she said. "I would have expected he be here."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm just concerned about his reaction to seeing Draco here," he murmured, seeing his best friend approach. "And I reckon we'll find out sooner than later."

But if Draco's presence bothered Ron, he didn't let it show. In fact, he pretended the blond wasn't even there. He greeted Hermione with a kiss before dragging her away to see some of their old schoolmates. "No, I'm fine, Weasley," Draco said as he watched them walk away. "Really, everything's great. I'd like to know more about you though."

Harry laughed and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, you definitely need a drink," he decided. Together, the pair entered the crowded kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley, a short, plump, red haired woman, stood over a large pot on the stove. "So, we have firewhiskey, butterbeer, a few muggle liquors. Hermione turned me onto Jack and Coke. My uncle was more of a scotch man and my aunt was the type of woman who put ice cubes in her wine. But this was her dad's favorite. Want to try one?"

"Yeah, why not," Draco replied. He watched as Harry poured a small amount of a light brown liquor into a tumbler before adding the soda. Then he handed it over and waited for Draco to take a sip. After raising the glass to his lips, Draco winced as the concoction made its way down his throat. "Hermione actually drinks this stuff?" he asked, placing the glass down on the table.

"She's not a big drinker, but you knew that," he replied. "But yeah, once in awhile, this is her drink."

Draco nodded and joined Harry at the table. "The last time we drank together was after my trial," he shared. "I mean, we wrote letters in between, but that was the first time we actually saw each other outside of a courtroom or a holding cell. I honestly thought she would still hate me, that one good deed might not have been enough to make up for all the horrible things I'd done to her when we were younger.

"Anyhow, she started telling me all these stories about her parents," he continued. "By the way, she blames you for her first cavity. Bought out the candy trolley, did you?"

Harry grinned and nodded proudly. "It was the first time I'd ever had money," he stated. "What 11 year old wouldn't drop a couple hundred galleons on candy?"

"Can't say I blame you," Draco agreed. "Anyway, she was telling me about her trip to Australia to find them, and how she couldn't. I was sitting there all of five minutes when she started crying. Then, from what I could understand in the midst of the sobbing, she started talking about-" He glanced up to find Molly Weasley still there.

"Yeah," Harry replied, understanding to whom Draco referred.

Draco nodded, grateful that someone understood. "I don't know, she always seemed like she had this perfect life - great parents and friends who love her - but she said she felt more alone than ever," he said.

"Things were...different after the war," Harry admitted, taking a long swallow of his own drink. "I don't think I talked to anyone for three months. Hermione and Ron were together, but restoring her parents' memories was her first priority. Then she was going back to school. Then she was...I don't know, gonna be the youngest person to be named Minister of Magic. Ron and I had no idea what to do with ourselves. Going back to school wasn't an option, at least not for me. Not after everything that happened there. And no matter where we went there were cameras and journalists asking for a quote. Even in a sea of people, it's easy to feel alone. I'm glad she found you though. It seemed to really help her."

"It helped me too," he replied, staring into his glass.

Harry rose to refill his drink. "Sorry if it sounds rude, but I have to ask - do you have feelings for her?"

The living room was abuzz with excitement. Hermione looked around for any sign of Draco, guilty that they were separated and he was amongst unfriendly faces. Ron held her hand, leading her to the sofa. "I'm really glad you came," he told her. "Merlin, it feels like we haven't spent any time together in months."

"One month," Hermione corrected. "We saw each other a month ago. The last time you stormed out of my flat after trying to convince me to move back to the Burrow. And you haven't really spoken to me since then."

An embarrassed blush started at his neck and moved up his cheeks. "Sorry, Mione," he mumbled. "There's just...there's been a lot on my mind lately and sometimes I forget that I have to involve anyone else."

"So you haven't seen Harry in the last month?" she inquired.

The blush rose to his hairline. "Yeah, I have," he mumbled. "But we work together, Mione. I couldn't help it."

"You still could have made an effort," she said sadly. "I could have too. I'm sorry."

Ron held her hand and smiled. "I'm gonna make more of an effort to be better for you," he vowed. He rose from the couch, her hand still in his, and called for everyone's attention. "Harry, I need you to come in here too."

Seconds later, Harry appeared in the doorway with Draco behind him. Hermione shot him a curious, suspicious glance, but the Boy Who Lived merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Mione," Ron started nervously. "Hermione, you're my best friend. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And, um, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"


	12. Chapter 12

So, like I said in my note for More Than a Feeling, the hurricane is coming. Figured I should stop the hanging from a cliff I did in the last chapter. Thanks for not hating me too much!

* * *

Chapter 12  
Draco left before Hermione could answer. And it wasn't long after she gave her answer that Hermione left as well. She had hoped he had returned home, and was relieved to find him in the living room. "Oh, hi," he greeted her sullenly.

Setting her purse down on a nearby chair, she joined him on the sofa. "Hi," she replied.

"Where's your fiance?" he wondered, continuing to stare at the wall above the fireplace.

"Still at the party," she mumbled. "I needed to talk to you, but you left so quickly. Why did you leave, Draco?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he slouched down further. "Because I didn't feel like watching you make the biggest mistake of your life," he admitted, shooting her a pointed look.

"And marrying Ron would be the biggest mistake I could make?" she wondered. Draco shrugged and continued to look anywhere but at her. "I didn't give him an answer. Not a definitive one anyhow. I said I didn't know, and then he sort of got mad. Asked if I needed to make a pro/con list before I decided."

"Did he say that in front of everybody?" Draco asked. From the corner of his eye, he caught the nod of her head. "So, I guess that should go in the con column."

Hermione chuckled and inched closer to him. "I wish my mum were here to tell me what to do," she said sadly. "A girl's first proposal seems like something for a mother to handle."

Uncrossing his arms, he reached for her hand and examined her fingers. "There's always my mother," he offered. "Though, I have a feeling that conversation will eventually veer into 'Draco's never going to settle down, and I'll never have grandchildren' territory. Because the two are so mutually exclusive. So, ya know, you've been warned."

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. "I want to get married," she told him. "Someday, I want to get married. I was never that little girl who played wedding, or planned the perfect day. I don't care what the dress looks like or what flowers are used. What I do care about though is who I marry."

"That does seem more important," he agreed. "Are you afraid that Ron isn't the right guy?"

"Maybe," she admitted. But there was something greater - a bigger fear that she had yet to vocalize. Marrying Ron meant losing Draco.

He examined her still bare ring finger. "Something else is bothering you," he observed. "Something you're not telling me."

Lifting her head, she sighed. "I like my life," she told him. "I like my job. I like my friends. I like...my stuff. And I like living with you. Getting married means giving that up. Giving...you up."

"I'm not going anywhere, Hermione," he murmured, hoping to set her mind at ease.

"Oh, so you'll be okay if Ron moved in here with us?" she joked.

"Not on your life," he retorted with a laugh.

The laughter ebbed, and she rested against his shoulder once more. Her eyes focused on their hands. The way Draco held hers so lovingly. The way he touched her fingers as if he were trying to memorize how they felt. It was more delicate than the way Ron held her hand. She wondered if perhaps Draco might love her the way a potential husband should.

"What do you think I should do?" she asked.

Her hand fell between them as he let it go. His own fingers ran through his hair as he tried to figure out how to tell her not to marry Ron Weasley. "I can't make that call for you," he said instead. "I won't make that call for you."

"But you know things won't be the same between us if I marry him," she stated, the sadness evident in her voice.

"I already promised you that I'm not going anywhere," he replied, leaning forward so his arms rested on his thighs. "Unless you want me to, I guess. No, even then. It's you and me, Hermione. I can't just let that go because you marry Weasley."

She sat in stunned silence. There was no way she would have given him up. If it meant not being with Ron, she would risk it to keep Draco. And perhaps she wouldn't lose the Weasleys if she turned down his proposal. There would be awkwardness between them, maybe even tension. But the family had adopted her as one of their own, and family loyalty was a trait they cherished.

Hermione reached for his hand and held it between both of her own. "You're my best friend, Draco," she told him. "Nothing will ever change that. I don't want anything to change that. This entire time, since Ron asked, since I left Harry's, since I got home - I've been making that pro and con list in my head."

"How's it looking?" he inquired.

"More cons than pros," she replied. "And most of them are about you."

His brows furrowed. "Am I the pro or the con?"

She turned his hand over and traced the lines on his palm. "That doesn't matter," she muttered. "What matters is I can't come up with a good enough reason to say yes. Sure, I love him. We've been friends for a long time. His family has become my family. But are any of those good enough reasons to marry him? I could apply the same things to his brothers, but that doesn't mean I want to marry them either."

"So, your answer is no, then?" he asked.

"I think it was from the beginning," she confessed, continuing to focus on his hand. "If I had wanted to, really wanted to marry him, it would have been easy to say yes. I wouldn't have had to think about it."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was finally over between Hermione and Ron. Maybe now she would see that she didn't need him, that she could be happy with someone else. In time she would realize that the world did not revolve around the Weasley family. There were other people who cared for her just as much, if not more, than they did.

"So, you say no," he said. "What happens then?"

Hermione shrugged. "We break up, I guess," she replied nonchalantly. "This time for good."


	13. Chapter 13

My kitten is freaked out by the storm. My office is closed until Wednesday, which means lots of writing time. If the power holds out. It hasn't gone out yet, but ya never know!

* * *

Chapter 13  
Harry strolled through Diagon Alley, stopping just outside of Hermione and Draco's building. It hadn't been his intention to drop by, but the opportunity presented itself in the form of Draco Malfoy. The front door opened, and the blond descended the short set of stairs. It wasn't until he nearly bumped into Harry that he stopped.

"Oh, hi," he greeted him nervously. "Um, sorry about that. Hermione's not in right now."

Harry smiled and adjusted his glasses. "That's okay," he replied. "Fancy a butterbeer? I usually stop by the Quidditch shop on my lunch break. Maybe if there's time..."

"You want to grab a drink? With me?" Draco asked dubiously.

Harry nodded though his smile faded a bit. "I was hoping we could talk about Hermione." He had laid his cards on the table, and hoped Draco would see that was all that was on his mind. They both loved and cared for Hermione, and Harry knew Draco would be able to ease his concerns.

Draco nodded and they silently walked to the Leaky Cauldron. They found a table near the back, near the stairs that led to the rooms above. Harry ordered two butterbeers, chilled, and thanked the barkeep, Tom. An awkward silence prevailed until Harry could no longer take it.

"She told him no," Harry stated. One eyebrow quirked as he tried to assess Draco's reaction, but he gave none.

"I know. She told me," he replied.

Harry nodded and pushed his shaggy, dark hair away from his eyes. "I figured she would," he commented. "She's always felt this pressure to be with him. I think she loves him, but their relationship was never what she hoped it would be. What's bothering me now is how she's acting."

A perplexed look crossed Draco's face. "She hasn't seemed any different to me."

"No, I guess she wouldn't," Harry murmured, taking a sip of his newly arrived drink. "It's us she's different around. Well, me. She hasn't actually seen the Weasleys since she ended things with Ron. And she keeps apologizing to me like she's done something wrong. Any insight on that one?"

Draco had more than insight, and he felt it was safe to share it with the boy he'd once considered his enemy. "She's afraid," he said. "She thinks she's going to lose all of you, and I think the fear of losing you is what hurts her the most."

That took his companion aback. "She would never," he whispered. Clearing his throat, he urged himself to be more forceful. "I would never turn my back on Hermione. She's been like a sister to me. She stuck by my side through everything. I'm not gonna abandon her because Ron's upset that she turned him down."

A friendly smile turned up the corners of Draco's lips. "I think it would mean the world to her if she heard that from you," he advised.

They finished their drinks and ordered two more. "What do you think your father would say if he saw you now?" Harry wondered, genuinely awed by the man sitting across from him. "Best friends with a muggleborn, having a drink with Voldemort's number one foe, smiling."

Draco chuckled. "I doubt he'd recognize me," was his good-natured reply. "Might be a good thing."

"Do you think he'll care?" Harry wondered. "I mean, he's still got, what ten more years in Azkaban? Maybe he'll change."

"Maybe, maybe not," Draco replied with a careless shrug. "I stunned him to save Hermione's life. I doubt he'll be warm and welcoming toward her when he comes home."

Harry choked on his drink and coughed as he set the glass down on the table. "You what?" he asked incredulously.

A light blush colored Draco's cheeks. "Hermione never told you," he said flatly. Harry shook his head, eyes wide. The cat was out of the bag, and Draco decided it was time for her friend to know the whole story. "I watched her get tortured. My aunt just...and the screaming haunted me for the longest time. She tried so hard to fight through the curses, and she never broke down, never gave them the information they wanted. How could I hurt her after that? I never wanted to see anything like that again. So, when we saw each other again during the battle, I knew I couldn't do it, and I couldn't let my father do it either. So, I stunned him and told her to run."

"That's what she meant at your trial," Harry realized. "I asked her how you helped her, and she told me it was nothing. We were there to testify on your behalf, and she said she needed to say something so that's what she said. I didn't realize you had actually done something. You saved her life, Draco. Thank you for that."

Draco shrugged and downed the rest of his butterbeer. "I figured it was the least I could do," he mumbled. "I didn't honestly think we'd become friends after that. It sort of just happened."

The smile Harry wore communicated just how much he loved Hermione and that he knew Draco understood the power of her friendship. "That's what's great about her," he replied. "She sort of has this way of sneaking up on you. You don't realize it's happening, and then suddenly it's like you can't remember what you did without her. She's risked her life to save mine more times than I can count. And that's why, no matter what happens, I'll stick by her side until the end. I'm pretty sure you feel the same way."

"I do," Draco agreed. "I've had friends before, but none like Hermione. Even when she's driving me up a wall, I can't help but think that I got really lucky."

Harry held up his glass; a silent signal for Draco to do the same. "To being lucky," Harry toasted. Draco tapped his glass against Harry's and took a long sip. "So, do you love her?"

Draco coughed once and wiped his mouth with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "Of course, I do," he replied suspiciously. "I told you - she's my best friend."

But that wasn't what Harry meant, and he was sure Draco knew that. "No, I mean do you have feelings for her?" he asked. "Feelings that go beyond friendship. Feelings you would feel for a person you're in love with."

Draco glanced down at the contents of his glass, suddenly unable to meet Harry Potter's eye. "Yes," he replied. "I do."


	14. Chapter 14

Happy Birthday to me! The power came back on around 2 in the morning. I'm considering it the power company's gift to me. There's no way my parents will be able to top that present.

* * *

Chapter 14  
Hermione returned home from work early, concerned that Draco hadn't shown up after lunch. The only light came from the open windows as sunlight streamed in to illuminate the living room. There, on the sofa, sat Draco. "Everything okay?" she asked as she approached him.

"Uh-huh," he replied.

"How come you didn't come back to work?" she inquired, standing in front of him to block his view of the wall he had been staring at.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch pillow. "Didn't feel like it," he mumbled.

"Is something bothering you? Something you want to talk about?" she wondered, taking a seat on the coffee table. A closed off Draco was never a good Draco. It worried her that all of a sudden he felt he couldn't talk to her. "Is it...did I do something wrong?"

His head snapped up and his eyes opened. "What? No, of course not," he told her, leaning forward to take her hand. "Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind. Time sort of got away from me today."

"Harry said you had lunch," she commented. Draco nodded. "Did it not go well?"

"Harry seems like a really great guy," he replied. "I think he and I could be friends."

A smile grew on her lips and Hermione leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck. "Really?" she asked excitedly. Laughing, he pulled her with him as he leaned back against the couch. She straddled his lap and smiled. "I'm so happy to hear that. Better late than never, right?"

"Yeah, sure," he said with a chuckle. "No, he's your friend, and I think it's high time we put the past behind us. Besides, I think we've been getting on rather well lately."

Her smile grew impossibly large, and before Draco realized it, her lips were upon his. It wasn't like the chaste, platonic kisses they had shared in the past. There was a passion he had never felt before. Soon, as the shock wore off, his arms wound around her waist to hold her to him. He deepened the kiss, tasting her for the first time. And then she pulled away.

"Sorry," she mumbled as an embarrassed blush darkened her cheeks. His hold on her loosened, and she climbed off of his lap. "I don't know what came over me. We shouldn't...it shouldn't have happened like that."

Draco furrowed his brows, confused by her choice of words. "What, you just got caught up in the moment of discussing Potter and you kissed me?" he asked, seeking clarification for her out of character behavior. "Or you wanted to kiss me, but not because I befriended him?"

"I don't know," she replied, her good mood now gone. "I just...I just got out of a relationship. Four years of kisses that seemed to mean nothing and a daily struggle to try to love him when I didn't. You're not supposed to be my rebound. It's supposed to be someone else, someone I don't care about. It shouldn't be you."

He turned so he could look her in the eye. "Do you want to be with me, Hermione?" he asked, wanting to reach for her hand, to touch her in some way. But he restrained himself. If she said no, he wasn't sure he could stand to feel her skin against his own.

She sniffled, and he realized that she was crying. Immediately, his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb sweeping away a tear that fell. "I do," she told him. "But I'm more afraid of it not working with you than I was with Ron. He won't even speak to me since we broke up. What if that happened with us too?"

"It won't," he promised. Hermione scoffed, making it clear she didn't believe him. With his hand still on her cheek, he turned her head so she had to look him in the eye. "It won't because I won't let it. I love you too much to lose you, Hermione. We can be together, and if we were to break up, we could still have one another. I can't lose my best friend either, so we'll make an effort to keep that from happening."

She leaned into him, allowing him to hold her, envelop her, take her fears away. "Maybe we won't break up," she decided. "Maybe we'll be together forever."

"It sounds good to me," he agreed. "Though, I think we would have been together even if we weren't together. It's the same way I think you and Harry will always be together."

"But I don't want to be with Harry the way I want to be with you," she replied.

Chuckling, he pressed his lips to her temple. "Good to know," he murmured. "So, what do we do?"

Sighing, she pulled away. "I don't know," she admitted. "What about my rebound?"

"Won't that make me your rebound's rebound?" he wondered. Hermione shrugged. There was something about her nonchalance that bothered him. "Hermione, do you want to do this? Do you really want to be with me? If you say no, nothing will change between us. I'll still be here."

"Physically or mentally?" she asked. Because if she said no now, he could still check out even if he promised to remain in the flat.

"Both," he promised, reaching for her hand. "I know you worry that I'll leave, and it doesn't matter how many times I say anything to the contrary. Your fears are your fears, and nothing I say will make them disappear. I don't want you to be with me because you think you'll lose me. It's not like it was with Ron. I'll still want to lie in bed with you at night watching the telly. You'll still be the person I go to when something is bothering me or I've had a bad day. Nothing changes between you and me. Hell, things probably won't change if we do decide to date. There'll just be more kissing involved."

Sitting back, Hermione placed her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. "You do make a valid point," she commented. "I'm sorry I didn't let you kiss me that day. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, but...well, Ron."

Draco nodded. He understood. It seemed he always understood. "We'll take it slow," he suggested. "We'll do everything the way we have since we moved in. You cook, I clean up. We sleep in your bed, you wake me up at three in the morning with a swift kick to the shins. Actually, that could change."

"Your room is right next door," she reminded him with a wry grin.

"I like being near you," he murmured. "Bruised legs and all."

Her smile changed to one that held relief. "Will you kiss me?" she requested, her voice soft, hesitant.

He pushed a stray curl behind her ear and whispered, "Gladly," before his lips touched hers.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
"Wow, nice office."

Hermione had just arrived at her office early on a Wednesday morning to find that she wasn't the first one there. Seated at her desk was Ron, and he didn't look happy. Despite her calm outward appearance, she shook on the inside. Why was he here? Weeks had gone by without word from him. Harry had said he was fine, that he knew she would say no. So, _why_ was he here?

"I thought we should talk," he continued when she said nothing.

"What about?" she wondered, taking a seat in front of the desk. For a moment, she felt like a student about to be reprimanded by the Headmaster.

Ron stood and moved to the large picture window. "Us," was his simple reply.

"I didn't realize there was still an _us_ to discuss," she stated.

Ron shook his head, red locks that had grown too long swishing about with the back and forth motion. "I hear you and Malfoy are dating," he commented.

"Where'd you hear that?" she wondered, trying to sound neither guilty nor suspicious.

He shrugged. "Just around," he replied. "It's not like you two haven't been seen together."

"We live together. Of course we're seen together. That doesn't necessarily translate to 'we're in a relationship'," she pointed out.

"Are you though?" he asked, turning to face her. There was a sadness in his eyes, a sadness that told her he had resigned himself to the fact that she had moved on.

Hermione was torn between lying and telling him the truth. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" she wondered. He seemed to hesitate before nodding that yes, he did want to know. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Yes, we are."

He lowered himself back into her desk chair. "Did it start while we were still dating?" he asked, sounding beaten down. Hermione shook her head emphatically. "Did you have feelings for him when we were together?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "He's just sort of...been there for the last few years. He knows everything - my best and worst moments, the things that scare me, the foods I hate, how big my hair gets in the morning. My feelings for him, these _new_ feelings, kind of sneaked up on me. I can't even say when they started."

Ron rose from her chair and silently walked toward the door. "Well, I guess it eases my mind that you didn't cheat on me with the ferret," he replied, his tone condescending. Getting a second wind, he moved away from the door and returned to her desk. "Ya know, I knew this would happen. You moving in with him was the final nail that broke the camel's back. And I know that's not the right phrase, but I don't care. You kept it from me for weeks. And why? Because you thought I'd talk you out of it? You thought I'd be angry? Well, I think I had every right to be!"

"We were friends, and you didn't get that," she stated defensively. "You live in the past, and you're too stubborn to realize that people change. Draco changed. I didn't tell you because I'm so sick of hearing about how much you hate him. And I'm sorry, Ron, I'm so sorry that my friendship with Draco bothered you as much as it did. But I can't...I won't apologize for befriending him."

And once more, he seemed to deflate. "I wasn't a good boyfriend," he said apologetically. "I know I wasn't. After the war, I was angry and hurting and I missed my brother. I ignored you when we were home, and then heaped my attention upon you in public. Everyone thought we were meant to be together, and I felt...I don't know, obligated to give it to them. It never occurred to me that it might bother you to be in that kind of relationship."

"I thought maybe you didn't think I was good enough to be your girlfriend in private too," she admitted.

Kneeling down in front of her, Ron took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "You're the only person who ever thought that," he replied. "Honestly, I thanked my lucky stars everyday that you paid any attention to me at all. You're smart and pretty and I've seen the way other guys would look at you when we went out. Maybe some part of me was showing off in public, letting everyone know that I got the girl."

"And alienated her at the same time," Hermione muttered. Ron nodded, knowing she was right. "I stayed with you because I honestly thought that if my best friend didn't want me, then no one would. But Draco made me realize that wasn't true. It took a lot of effort on his part to make me see it, but I do now."

There was a look in Ron's blue eyes - a mix between guilt and shock. "I didn't...I hadn't realized...I'm sorry I..." he stammered. Then he cleared his throat, and tried again. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I guess one best friend really did want you."

"If you didn't want to be with me, then why did you propose?" she wondered.

There was an honest, sad lift and sag to his shoulders. "It seemed like the right thing to do," he answered. "We were together for four years. Getting married seemed like the next step."

Hermione nodded, filling in what he hadn't said - everyone expected them to get engaged. And Ron was good at pandering to the audience. The more she thought about his proposal, the angrier she became. He hadn't proposed because he loved her. Had he ever really loved her? Had he ever really wanted to be with her? Her frustration grew when she realized she didn't want to know the answers.

"I, um, I'll let you get back to work," Ron said, after several uneasy minutes of sitting in silence. Hermione nodded and rose from her seat to round her desk. He moved towards the door and stopped when he reached it. "Mione? Do you think we can still be friends?"

Hermione sighed as she sat down. "I don't know, Ron," she replied. "Maybe. I hope so."

He gave a brisk nod and left. Closing her eyes, Hermione rested her head on her desk and willed herself not to cry. It had been a sham. Four years of her life wasted on Ron Weasley, who may have never loved her at all.

The door opened again, and she lifted her head quickly. "Did I just see Weasley walking down my hall?" he inquired. "How did he even get in?"

"I told you security is lax," she mumbled.

He shut the door behind himself and perched on the edge of her desk. "What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, she asked, "You love me right?" Despite his furrowed brows, he nodded. "Then nothing is wrong."


	16. Chapter 16

Today, I found gluten free pie crusts! Oh how I've missed pie. Now I can make one!

* * *

Chapter 16  
Draco rushed around the flat like a chicken without its head. Despite his panic to get out the door as quickly as possible, Hermione watched, amused. "You could help me, ya know," he stated as he searched for a missing left shoe. "I was supposed to leave five minutes ago."

"I'll help if you tell me where you're going," she replied, slowly rising from the couch.

Stopping, his sighed and let his right shoe fall to the floor. "My mother is insisting I see my father," he told her.

She had found his shoe underneath the sofa, but it slipped from her hand when she heard where he was going. "Azkaban?" she whispered.

Draco nodded solemnly. "I haven't seen him since his trial," he replied, picking up both shoes. He sat down beside her and began to put them on. "Maybe it's because he told me he never wanted to see me again. I mean, that seems like a good reason not to visit, right? Anyway, my mother has been on me to reconcile with him, and she was going today to see him."

"I'll go with you," she offered. "I mean, I'll stay in the waiting area while you talk to him. He would probably want to see me less than he wants to see you. But if you want me to, I'll come."

He pressed a kiss to her temple and smiled. "You are far better to me than I deserve," he murmured. "But you're not coming with me. I don't trust him, and I don't know what he's capable of. I don't want him to know you're there. And he _would_ know because I'd be more worried about you than myself."

"Fine, I'll just stay home," she said resignedly. "But I want details."

Rising from the couch, he leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her lips. "You'd get them even if you hadn't asked," he assured her. "Hopefully, I'll be home soon."

He floo'd to Malfoy Manor, and from there left with his mother for the prison. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as they made their way from the security station to the visitors' center. They'd been required to turn over their wands and were searched for contraband. Finally, they were left alone to await Lucius Malfoy's arrival.

"Stop fidgeting," Narcissa chastised. "There's nothing he can do to hurt you. And there will be guards present while he's here."

Draco nodded and swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. "Just do me a favor - don't mention Hermione," he requested. "She's not exactly his favorite person, and well, I just don't want him to know about my relationship."

Narcissa nodded, though she seemed incapable of looking her son in the eye. It was suspicious behavior, but behavior he didn't have time to dwell on as the door opened and a manacled Lucius entered. The guards led him to the table and stood by either side of him as he sat down.

"My son, finally come to visit," Lucius remarked. Then he turned to the guards on either side of him. "I believe you have him to thank for my stay here. Had I not required medical attention for the head wound he inflicted, well, gentlemen, we might never have had the opportunity to get to know one another."

Draco sneered. "Yes, because your other wrong doings would have been forgiven had it not been for me," he retorted.

"Please," Narcissa interjected. "It's been four years. Could the two of you please not fight? Lucius, honestly, he's your only son. Is it really your wish to alienate him?"

The older man scoffed. "He's done that all on his own," he replied. "What have you been up to all this time, Draco? Is the company still afloat?"

"Afraid I've run it into the ground?" Draco demanded. "Scared that I don't live up to your business acumen?"

And then something changed about Lucius Malfoy. The hard expression, the sneer, the narrowed eyes softened. "I wouldn't have left you in charge if I didn't believe in you," he stated.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in the hard, metal seat. Praise was not something he was used to receiving from his father. He'd been beaten down verbally by the man for years for not being good enough. "Um, thanks," he replied. "I think. And yeah, things are going well. We've remained in the black for the last few years."

Lucius nodded. "Your mother tells me you've moved out of the manor," he said without a hint of emotion in his voice. It was that nonchalance that unnerved the youngest Malfoy.

"Right, yeah. I found a flat in Diagon Alley," he said, turning his eyes to the nervously quiet woman beside him.

"Well, a little independence might be a good thing for you," his father commented. "Learn to fend for yourself. After all, you've had two decades of being spoiled by house elves. Did all the cooking and cleaning, kept you in clean laundry, even drew your baths. I applaud your ability to live without any of those creature comforts, if you won't mind the pun."

He was getting at something. Draco could feel it. The hairs on the back of his neck began to spike as if a chill had settled upon the room. "I've been able to manage pretty well these past few months," was all Draco said. He would give nothing away, even if his father already knew his secret.

"Make any new friends lately?" Lucius inquired.

"Why?" Draco asked guardedly. "Afraid I've taken up with people who weren't hand selected by you?"

A menacing grin rose on his father's lips. "You think me ignorant, don't you, Draco," he said casually. "We have newspapers here. We're allowed to read. Given a whole thirty minutes a day to enjoy the privilege, in fact. Now, the papers aren't always the most current edition, but they suffice. And imagine my surprise when you and Harry Potter were photographed at a Chudley Cannons game. The pair of you looked rather friendly."

"So, Harry and I are friends," Draco replied. "I don't see anything wrong with that. We've discussed the fact that we were both idiots when we were kids, and decided we could move past that. He's a pretty good guy when he's not being self-righteous."

"Okay, then there's just one more thing I'd like to know about," Lucius stated as the guards signalled that their time was nearly up. "You and Hermione Granger."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
"He knew about us," Draco exclaimed before the green flames had dissipated. He wiped the soot from his shoes and took them off. "How in the hell did he know about us?"

Hermione closed her book and slowly put it aside. "Your father?" she clarified. Draco nodded. "Knows? About us? How?"

Sighing, he shook his head and sat down beside her. "I don't know. The papers probably," he replied. "Isn't that how Weasley found out? I'm so sick of having a camera shoved in my face every time I leave the house. I swear I'm gonna become a shut-in."

There was a wry smile on her lips. "Oh, no. I know exactly how that would go," she stated. "You would stay here all day long, in bed, and demand that I stay with you. Nothing would ever get done and we'd develop bedsores. You're not becoming a hermit. I won't allow it."

He placed his head on her lap and stared up at her. "Ya wanna know the strangest part of the afternoon?" he asked her. Hermione nodded as she ran her fingers through his fine blond strands of hair. "He gave me his blessing. Not on the way I was running the business or the charities we've chosen to donate to. But for you and me. Just like that - he said we have his blessing."

"Why would he do that?" she wondered. "You stunned him to save my life. And now he's telling you, his own son, his pride and Pureblood joy, that he's perfectly happy that you've taken up with a muggleborn?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, it was more like him saying he has no way of controlling me or the things I do," he replied. "So, if I'm happy with you, then he won't try to dissuade me from being with you. It's really as close to 'you have my blessing' as you're gonna get from Lucius."

"So, it was less of a blessing and more of a concession," she surmised. "Was it good to see him at least?"

Draco snorted as he choked on a laugh. "Merlin, no," he replied. "It was nerve wracking and uncomfortable. He kept grilling me about work and where I live and who I'm friends with. All this after accusing me of getting him arrested. You'd think he'd want nothing to do with me. I'll be honest, I'm not sure I have any interest in seeing him again either."

Her hand stilled in his hair. "I would kill to see my parents again," she said sadly. "I'm not even sure where they are or if they're still alive. I know your relationship with your parents isn't a great one, but-"

"But at least I still have them," he finished for her. He sat up and placed his hand on her cheek as she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have said what I did. It was insensitive."

Hermione shook her head. "It's fine," she assured him.

"What if we tried again?" he wondered. "What if we search for them again? New ways of tracking people are being discovered everyday. What if someone's come up with something that can help us?"

"What if they don't want to see me?" she whispered, staring at the wall above the fireplace. "I mean, it's been four years since the war ended. What if they think I didn't want to find them? And they never quite approved of magic. And I used magic to erase their memories."

He turned her head to face him and smiled a loving smile. "They're your parents and they love you," he told her. "You've given them so many reasons to be proud of you. You saved a lot of lives, theirs included. They might be mad about the _way_ you did it, but they can't stay mad at you _for_ doing it."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and wound an arm around his neck. "I hope you're right," she murmured. "God, I really want you to be right."

"Well, I usually am," he joked, managing to earn a small chuckle from her. "Will you let someone help you this time? Two wands are better than one."

Hermione sighed. It was hard enough to admit defeat once, but she was terrified of having to do it again. And this time there might be a witness to her failure. "Well," she said uncertainly, "I guess having some company wouldn't be a terrible thing. It might be nice to have you with me._ If_ I go, that is."

"_When_ you go," he corrected her. She attempted to protest, but he silenced her as he continued to talk. "The business is good, I've got plenty of people who are capable enough to cover your job and mine. I think now is the time to go. Unless you have a reason not to."

"Does I'm scared qualify as a reason?" she asked.

Draco shook his head and smiled. "I've never known anyone braver than you, Hermione," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Why are you so adamant that I do this?" she wondered.

Pulling back, he eyed her skeptically. "Why are you so adamant about not doing it?" he countered. "And being afraid isn't a good enough reason for me."

Scoffing, she pushed him away and rose from the sofa. "It doesn't have to be a good enough reason for you," she stated, ire rising as her cheeks warmed. "They're my parents. Just once I'd like to not be brave. Why is it okay for everyone else to be scared of something, but not me?"

By the time she broke down, his arms were around her and his soothing, comforting voice was in her ear. "You don't always have to be brave, love," he murmured just loud enough for her to hear over her sobs. "I remember you once told me that admitting your fear was the greatest act of bravery. It's okay that you're scared of how they'll react, or scared that you might not find them again. I think this is something you have to do though, just to get a bit of closure."

His thumb stroked her cheek, wiping away the trails of tears, when she lifted her head. "And you'll be there with me?" she asked. Draco nodded. "Okay. I'll go."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
"Harry's mad," Draco informed her as they waited to check into their hotel.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I figured," she mumbled. "He was like that the first time around too. He wanted to help, but I wouldn't let him. I didn't think it was right to drag him on yet another quest after he'd just saved the world."

After signing the hotel ledger, he looped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator bay. "I've been practicing a few tracking spells," he told her as they rode up to the sixth floor. "Harry was helping me out with them. He taught me one that can track a person's scent."

"Well, unfortunately the Death Eaters destroyed my childhood home and all the belongings inside," she replied. "What else did you work on?"

The elevator doors opened, but Draco didn't move. "I didn't know," he murmured. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She stepped into the hallway and shrugged. "I don't know," she mumbled. "Which room is ours?"

He pushed the doors open as they began to close and followed her down the hall, a few paces behind. "Hermione, wait," he implored.

"Oh look, 624. That's us, right?" she asked. He nodded and slipped the key into the door. Using her foot, she nudged the door open and stepped in. "Hmm, nice. Not very big. Two beds?"

"It was all they had," he replied impatiently.

She moved to one and sat down at the foot. "Well, it looks big enough for the both of us to fit," she ascertained. Then she unzipped her bag and began to pull out her clothing. "The one good thing about living at the Burrow all that time was Molly's spells. She had a really great one for keeping clothes wrinkle free. Can you imagine what our belongings would look like without it."

He grabbed the sweater from her hand. "Hermione, stop," he demanded. She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that they burned your home down?"

Tears began to blur her vision. "Because," she said, "I was afraid you helped."

The sweater fell from his hands to the floor and he reached for her, pulling her up and holding her close to his chest. "Hermione, I swear I had no idea," he told her. "I wasn't allowed out on raids, and most of them were confidential. Until now, I didn't even know it happened. God, I'm so sorry."

"This is why I didn't want to come," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "There are too many...bad memories. Too many things I didn't want to remember. If I never see them again, then maybe I can forget."

"You don't want to forget them," he murmured, leading her back to the bed. "And not having them in your life won't help you forget the awful things that happened. You just have to believe that they've made you a stronger and better person. You sacrificed a lot, you lost people you care about, but you also have the opportunity to reunite with two people you love unconditionally."

"What if they hate me?" she wondered.

Draco smiled and turned her chin to face him. "Then you'll still have me, who loves you unconditionally," he promised. "But I think you need them too."

For so long she had wanted a family. Growing up as an only child, she had longed for siblings. Then, she was brought into the fold of the Weasley family, which teemed with children. They fought, but they were fiercely protective of one another. And, as she and Ron grew closer, the Weasley brothers' loyalty was extended to her. She had found a family in the wizarding community, one that took her in at the lowest point in her life. But they hadn't been enough. They hadn't been _her_ family.

"I do want to find them," she admitted. "And I'm sorry for the way I've been acting toward you. You arranged everything. You learned the spells to find my parents. You've put up with me. And I've been nothing but short and mean to you. You don't deserve that."

He leaned forward and kissed her. "At least now I understand why you've been less than your normal, cheery self," he replied. "I'm sorry I didn't know what had happened."

"I'm sorry I thought you were involved," she murmured. "It was just that 'what if' thought nagging in the back of my mind. If you had been there, would you tell me?"

Draco nodded. "I know I wasn't good at the whole honesty thing when I was younger," he replied, "but I don't think I've ever lied to you about anything since we became friends. You know things I've never told anyone else. I don't think I could have kept something like this from you had I been involved."

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. She held him close for a long time before covering his lips with her own. "I love you."

Draco smiled against her lips. "I love you too," he replied. "I never thought I could love someone the way I love you."

"Oh, I don't know," she said breezily. "I think there was a time you loved yourself more than you love me now."

"Yeah, but I grew up," he stated, kissing her again. "Everything changed sixth year. I hated myself for succumbing to You Know Who. It made me sick to think that I was hurting people, people who didn't deserve it. I did it to protect my parents. I wanted to be a hero."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "You saved my life," she pointed out. "I thought it was pretty heroic. Sort of a white knight, damsel in distress kind of thing."

Draco chuckled. "I wouldn't call you a damsel in distress," he replied. "More like a warrior who needed a little back up."

"Well, you still saved me, so I get to think of you as my white knight," she stated definitively. They sat together in silence, merely holding one another and enjoying the peace that had descended upon them. It was a perfect moment, she decided.

His voice, soft and hesitant, broke through the quiet. "Hermione, do you think you'd ever want to get married?"


	19. Chapter 19

Happy Thanksgiving Eve! My company gave us an early dismissal, so the countdown has begun. 50 more minutes! Then it's home to start baking!

* * *

Chapter 19  
Hermione pulled back, mouth agape in surprise. "You mean like in general, or did you have a specific groom in mind?" she asked.

"Me," he replied with a hesitant smile. "I mean, I'm not proposing right now. I was just curious. Of all the things we know about each other, our views of marriage and kids are one of the few things I don't think we've ever really discussed."

"I never thought about it until Ron proposed," she told him. "I was terrified when he asked. Because there's been this part of me that thought no one would ever want to marry me, so maybe I should say yes. But I knew I'd be miserable with him. You already know that though. I told you once that I didn't care about my wedding, but about the guy I marry. That still holds."

Draco nodded. "I always told my mother I would never get married or have kids," he shared. "I think I just did it to make her mad. But honestly, I never thought I'd meet someone that I thought I could spend the rest of my life with."

Hermione cleared her throat and stood up. "We should get out of here," she suggested. "We came all this way to find my parents. Maybe we should, ya know, do that."

He followed her to the other side of the room. "Are you uncomfortable talking about this?" he wondered.

She chuckled nervously. "What? No," she replied, though he seemed unconvinced. One little look wore her down. "Okay, fine. Yes, it does make me uncomfortable. We've been dating for, what, a month. I was with Ron for four years and didn't think about marriage until he proposed. And here you are discussing it already. It just freaks me out a little."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing her arms. "Sometimes I get these ideas in my head, and I don't know how to let them go. Or keep them to myself, apparently. I agree that it's too soon to be talking about getting married. We've just always had this openness, and I don't want that to go away because we're dating. I want to know how long you want to wait before taking the next step. I want to know when something I say bothers you. You've never been shy about saying exactly what's on your mind before, and I just want things to stay the same."

"They are the same," she insisted.

Draco shook his head. "No, they're not," he replied. "We spend our free time together, but there are things you don't tell me. You want your privacy, I understand that. I'll give you all the space the want. But talking to you lately is like pulling teeth."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she felt silly for crying over a muggle cliche. But it reminded her of her parents and her last failed mission to find them. "I'm sorry," was all she said. "Being here, doing what we're about to do, it's just been a lot. And I see myself pushing you away. That's the worst part. I know I'm doing it, but I don't know how to stop."

"Why do you feel like you have to push me away?" he wondered, wiping away the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

Hermione shrugged, releasing an aggravated sigh. "Because when Ron and I first started dating, we did everything together," she told him. "We went everywhere together, we told each other everything. It was nauseating, but I loved him so I didn't care. And then we started growing apart, and it didn't take all that long. I don't want you to get tired of me."

His smile was gentle. "I'll never get tired of you," he vowed. "I know your relationship with Ron wasn't the easiest, and maybe they're not supposed to be. But you've been my best friend for the past four years. Have I gotten tired of you yet?"

"I don't know," she mumbled. "Have you?"

"I prefer my Hermione with a dash more self-confidence," he replied. "But I'd take you any way I could get you."

Hermione leaned into him. "Why are you so good to me?" she wondered.

"Because you deserve to be treated well," he replied simply. "After all those years of fighting and hating each other, the fact that we figured out how to make things better, it just seems wrong to not to be good to you. I'm just as scared of losing you as you are of me."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "You and me - this is it for me, Draco."

His arms wound around her waist, holding her closer. "So, if I were to propose-" he hedged.

Hermione let go a soft breath. "When the time is right, I'd say yes."

Narcissa fretted over her son's sudden disappearance. She floo'd to his flat, hoping to find some answers there. What she found was even better - Harry Potter.

He seemed stunned by the intruder. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, putting the watering can down. "Um, Hermione asked me to water her plants. Draco gave her a sunflower when they first moved in, and she didn't want it to die while they were gone."

Narcissa nodded and shook the soot from her robes. "And where have they gone?" she inquired.

Harry hemmed and hawed. If Draco hadn't told her his whereabouts, then perhaps he hadn't wanted her to know. But the Malfoy matriarch had a pointed look, one that told him that he had better start talking.

"Australia," he said. "Hermione thinks her parents are still there, and she's determined to find them."

The blonde nodded and casually flipped her long, smooth hair over her shoulder. "And my son is helping her," she added.

He nodded. "Yes, he is," Harry confirmed.

"Draco was raised with what you might consider to be old fashioned beliefs," she told him. "I don't mean all that Pureblood superiority nonsense. That was more his father's doing. I instilled in him a more gentlemanly code of conduct."

Dark brows furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand," Harry replied.

Narcissa smiled softly; a motherly grin. "He loves her. I think my son intends to marry Miss Granger," she explained. "I fully believe he accompanied her to aid in the search for her parents. But he's a Malfoy. There's always an ulterior motive."

It then became clear to Harry what she meant. "He's going to ask for her parents' permission to marry her."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
It had taken three weeks for the tracking spell to work. Jane and Robert Granger, or Monica and Wendell Wilkins as they were now known, resided in a quiet little town in Sydney, Australia. Draco and Hermione located their house and visited them under the guise of being their new neighbors. The older couple warmly welcomed them and invited them in for tea.

"Draco and Hermione. What interesting names," her mother commented.

"My parents were always fascinated by astronomy," Draco told her.

Monica nodded. "Hermione is such a lovely name. Shakespearian. Were your parents actors perhaps?"

Hermione nervously fidgeted with her hands. "Dentists," she replied.

Wendell set the tea tray down on the coffee table. "Me too," he said. "I had a practice in England before we moved here."

"So, what brought the two of you here?" Monica inquired. "Your accents sound British."

Draco toyed with the wand up his sleeve. "Change of scenery," he told her. "We've both always wanted to see Australia, and now seemed like the right time to do it."

The Wilkenses nodded in agreement. Beside him, Hermione picked up her tea cup, which shook in her hands, and took a small sip. "Actually, we were looking for someone," she said, her voice as shaky as her hands. "Um, two someones."

"Oh, who?" Monica asked.

"Are you sure?" Draco whispered.

Hermione gave an apprehensive nod and watched as his wand slipped further into his hand. "My parents," she replied.

Monica wore a stunned expression while her husband furrowed his brows. Before he could reply though, Draco murmured the spell that would reverse the memory charm Hermione placed on them five years ago.

The effect was instantaneous. Jane and Robert Granger stared at them with wide eyes. "Hermione?" Jane whispered.

Not trusting her own voice, Hermione nodded as tears clouded her vision. "I don't know how much you know about what happened in the wizarding world," Draco started as the Grangers continued to stare at their daughter in disbelief. "There was a war, a battle to eradicate our world of what some believed to be inferior citizens. Hermione...well you know Harry Potter, I'm sure. He was the leader of the group fighting against them."

"You fought a war?" her father asked incredulously.

Draco nodded. "She saved a lot of lives, yours and mine included."

"And what exactly did she do to us?" Robert inquired.

Finally, Hermione found her voice. "I used a spell that erased your memories of me, and implanted new ones," she explained. "Being Harry's friend and a muggleborn witch sort of painted a target on my back. And yours. Not long after you left England, there was a raid on our home. It was burned to the ground."

"Were they looking for us or you?"

"Her," Draco replied. "But they would have tortured you to get to her."

"How do you know this?" Jane wondered.

Draco inhaled and let his breath out slowly. "Because I was one of them," he stated, ashamed by the fact. "I wasn't a part of the raid, but I was a Death Eater."

Robert frowned. "Draco...as in Malfoy?" he asked, to which the younger man nodded. "I recognize that name. Hermione used to tell us about a boy at her school who harassed her daily."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, chagrined. "And I regret now that I treated her that way. Thankfully, she's forgiven me, though."

"He's changed," Hermione added with a soft smile. "We became very good friends after the war."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I credit Hermione for helping me cope after the final battle," he said, reaching for her hand. "A lot of people didn't want to give a former Death Eater the time of day, but she's always been there for me."

"He's helped me a lot too," Hermione added, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed by her mother. "What about the Weasley family?" she wondered.

Hermione blushed. "We don't speak much," she admitted. "After Ron and I ended our relationship, the family and I sort of drifted apart."

"That's too bad. He was always such a nice boy," Mrs. Granger replied as she refilled her cup.

"Hermione's love life is her business," her father stated gruffly. "She'll do with it what she pleases. Just as she does with everything else."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked, hurt by his words.

Robert got to his feet. "It means you do what you want, to hell with the consequences," he told her. "End relationships, erase your parents' memories. Don't you think we had a right to know? Having these silly magical powers doesn't make you better than us. It didn't give you the right to do what you did, and I won't sit here and ignore it while the two of you discuss boys."

"Bob, please calm down," his wife implored.

But he waved her off. "No, I won't," he replied. "And I would have expected you to be upset about this as well. I told you she didn't belong in that world. I told you it was trouble. No one listened to me though. What if she'd been killed? We might never have known who we were or what happened to us."

"But I'm fine," Hermione insisted.

"How long?" he asked. "How long ago was this war?"

"It ended five years ago," Draco said.

"And you just now bothered to try and find us?"

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I tried after it ended, but I couldn't. None of the spells I knew worked. Without Draco's help, I might have failed again this time."

Robert nodded sarcastically. "Draco's help," he muttered. "And why did Draco decide to help?"

"Because I love your daughter, sir, and I saw how unhappy she was having no idea where you were or if you were still safe," Draco replied, his anger rising. "You understand that the both of you would be dead right now if Hermione hadn't cast that spell."

"Draco, please. It's useless," Hermione said defeatedly. "Let's just go. I can rest easy knowing their memories have been restored."

Though he didn't agree, Draco nodded and got to his feet. "It was nice to meet you," He said as Hermione led him to the front door. "You really do have an amazing daughter."

Mrs. Granger watched them go, but was on her feet before the front door closed. "Wait," she said as she reached them. She wore a kind smile as she reached for her only child's hand. "Thank you, sweetheart. Don't worry about Dad. He'll come around. It's just a lot to take in right now."

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione murmured, leaning forward to embrace her for the first time in half a decade.

Jane pulled away and smiled at Draco. "Could you and I talk privately for a moment?"

He looked to Hermione who nodded and promised to meet him by the fence. When she was out of earshot, he said, "I'm sorry for getting mad at your husband."

"You love her very much, don't you?" Jane asked, ignoring his apology.

"Yes, I do," he replied, dumbfounded by her response. "More than anything."

Mrs. Granger's smile grew. "My daughter deserves a good man," she stated. "And you seem like a good one. Am I right?"

Draco blushed. "I hope so. I try to be," he replied. "Um, I had hoped to ask Mr. Granger for his permission to marry her. I'm pretty sure he's going to say no though."

Jane removed a small diamond ring from her ring hand. "You have my blessing," she told him as she placed the ring in his palm. "This belonged to my great grandmother and has been passed down to each bride. It's Hermione's turn now."

He closed his hand around the ring. "Thank you, Mrs. Granger," he murmured.


	21. Chapter 21

So, I finished writing this story yesterday, which isn't to say I'm done posting. I have...four more chapter, I think. I could easily count them, but one of my coworkers and I agreed that I need to slack off more. Oh, if only she knew!

* * *

Chapter 21  
"Her mother gave this to you?" Harry asked as he examined the ring Draco had received from Jane Granger a week earlier.

Draco nodded. "And Hermione doesn't know," he warned. "Let's try to keep it that way. She's made it clear that I'm not allowed to propose yet."

"Maybe you should let her propose to you," Harry suggested. "We all know you want to marry her, so give her the reins on the engagement. You'll just drive yourself crazy wondering when the right time is."

He glanced at his bespectacled friend dubiously. "But I'm the guy," he stated. "That's my job."

Harry grinned. "I don't think it makes you any less of a man if your girlfriend pops the question."

But a frown still marred the blond's pointed face. "Can I ask you something?"

Harry sighed. "No, I won't make fun of you if it does turn out that she proposed to you," he vowed. "And yes, I'll be your best man."

Draco shook his head. "No, but thanks," he replied. "You've met her parents, right?"

"Once or twice," Harry said, trying to recall the last time he had seen them. "I think they stopped taking her to Diagon Alley for school supplies around third year. That was the only time I ever saw them. Hermione and I grew up in the same town, but her father insisted on a magic-free home."

"The tracker and laws would have prevented her from doing magic," Draco pointed out.

Harry shook his head. "No, I mean he didn't want her talking about magic at all, and that included any mention of the Weasleys or me."

"Lock her in a cupboard, and the two of you had the same upbringing," Draco muttered.

"Yeah, but I always got the impression that they loved her," Harry replied. "That's where we differed."

Draco sighed tiredly. "Yeah, well, right now she's convinced her father doesn't anymore," he said. "The Hermione we know and love has called out of work sick all week. She's just not herself, and I don't know what to do to help her. Family isn't exactly my forte."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Not mine either," he replied. "I hate to say it, but I think talking to one of the Weasleys might help her. No one knows family like they do."

"The only problem is convincing her to talk to them," Draco pointed out. "They haven't exactly reached out to her since the break up."

"And she hasn't made an effort to see them either," Harry countered. "Ginny sort of blames you for that."

The very idea that he would keep her from her friends hurt. "You know I wouldn't do that," Draco said.

Harry patted his friend's shoulder. "_I_ know that and _you_ know that and _Hermione_ knows that," he assured him. "Ginny is another matter. Sometimes she gets these ideas in her head and there's no changing her mind. The Weasleys are a loving, but stubborn bunch. I don't know what it'll take to change their minds about you."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe I could talk to Ron," he suggested uncertainly. "Clear the air a bit. Think that could help?"

Harry eyed him dubiously. "You want to talk to Ron?" he asked. Draco nodded slowly. "No name calling? No dueling? Just talking?"

With a roll of his eyes, Draco nodded impatiently. "Yes, Harry. I want to _talk_ to him," he stated. "What's so confusing about that?"

The Boy Who Lived laughed. "You two hate each other, and you're suggesting you talk like two gentlemen," he commented. "That's funny to me. Can I be there when you suggest it to Hermione? I want to see her face. Maybe it'll bring her out of this funk she's in."

A scowl marred his friend's face as Harry continued to laugh. Despite Ron's pleas for friendship, both men knew he had done nothing to get back in her good graces. Draco was a hot button topic between the pair, and Ron's stubbornness to give him a chance was what continued to keep them apart. If he and Draco could come to some sort of understanding, then perhaps he stood a chance of winning Hermione's friendship back, and Hermione, in turn, could have the Weasley family once more.

"So, you don't think it'll help?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "Hard to say," he replied. "Ron talks about how much he misses her, but he also blames you for their break up. Like he had no hand in it. Well, he paid no attention to her, so maybe that's why he thinks that."

Draco leaned back on Harry's sofa. "Maybe I _am_ to blame," he said, rubbing his tired eyes. "I knew she was with him, but I continued to push her to move in with me. Maybe they'd still be together if she'd stayed at the Burrow."

"Yeah, and she'd still be unhappy," Harry pointed out. "She's been my best friend for about half my life, and I've never seen her as happy as I have now that the two of you are together. This thing with her parents is a setback, but if it hadn't been for you she might have gone the rest of her life trying to find them. She's better off with you, mate."

"I appreciate that, but your opinion means nothing if she doesn't feel the same way," Draco stated.

Dark brows furrowed. "Why wouldn't she feel the same way?" Harry wondered.

Draco shrugged and looked away. "Things have been different between us since we started dating," he explained. "We talked about it in Australia, and I figured we would go back to the way we had been before. But then we found her parents, and her father wasn't happy, and she's been depressed. I don't know, I just sometimes feel like maybe we should have stayed friends."

Harry shook his head. "You don't mean that," he said.

"I know I don't," the blond muttered.

"And you know she doesn't want that either," Harry stated.

Draco frowned. "I know that too."

"Okay, then," Harry said. "Quit moping around my house. If you want to talk to Ron, clear the air with him, I support you. I'll go with you. Act as a mediator of sorts. Hermione won't be able to appreciate your effort if Ron kills you."

Draco got to his feet and crossed the room to the fireplace. "Oh, I don't know. I've heard people respect martyrs," he commented wryly.

"Only when the martyr is me," Harry countered with a smile. "So, I'll talk to Ron, arrange a time for the two of you to meet?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry."

"That's what friends are for, Draco."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
Draco's leg shook beneath the table, and he was glad that no one was able to see it. Ron Weasley wasn't supposed to make him nervous. He_ didn't_ make him nervous, Draco told himself. It was the fact that his relationship hung in the balance that made him nervous. He wanted the old Hermione back, the one who teased him about bedhead and commented that his showers lasted too long. Her remarks were always in jest and said with a smile. But now, she paid no attention to how long he stood beneath the shower's spray, and she moved through the day like she saw nothing.

His heart hammered harder in his chest when he saw Harry and Ron approach his secluded table at the back of the Three Broomsticks. The dark haired man smiled and sat down, beckoning the redhead to sit beside him. "What's going on?" Ron inquired gruffly as he plopped down on his chair.

"Anybody want anything?" Draco asked. "Butterbeer, firewhiskey, something stronger to get us through this?"

Ron shook his head. "Let's not drag this out any longer than it needs to be," he suggested. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Hermione," Draco stated. He briefly summed up their trip to Australia, including her father's reaction. "I think she needs her family back."

Blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "How am I supposed to help?" Ron wondered.

"Well, it seems to me that your family is the closest thing she has here," Draco explained. "And I know that none of you like me, but I was hoping we could put aside our differences for her sake."

"She left me for you," he reminded the blond. Draco nodded, even if that wasn't the truth.

Harry cleared his throat. "This has nothing to do with who Hermione chooses to date," he interjected impatiently. "Ron, she's not doing well from what Draco's told me. We're her friends, and as far as I'm concerned, we've really dropped the ball here."

Ron blushed, sufficiently chargrined. "So, what do you want me to do?" he asked.

The other two men exchanged a brief look before Draco spoke. "Well, I was thinking that if she saw that I could get along with you, it might make her happy," he said. "I don't know when her parents are coming back, or even if they are. She needs a family, and I'm not enough for her."

"Big of you to admit it," the redhead commented cordially. "I'll admit, I've missed her too. I thought we could be friends after we broke up, but we haven't spoken once. Mum asks about her too. Wants to know when we're gonna make up so she comes to family meals again."

Draco perked up. "That sounds like an idea," he stated.

Ron's eyebrows rose incredulously. "Are you serious?" he asked. "And I'm guessing you want to come to these meals as well?"

"Hermione shouldn't be caught between Draco and the family," Harry stated. "It's wrong of you to make her choose, Ron."

"Why are you siding with _him_?" Ron asked, an angry blush rising up his neck.

Removing his glasses, Harry closed his eyes and rubbed them. "I'm on Hermione's side," he clarified. "The whole point of this talk was for you and Draco to try to make amends. He's trying. It's your turn now."

Sighing, Ron sat back in his chair and cross his arms over his chest. "Hermione said nothing happened between the two of you while we were dating. Is that true?"

Draco nodded. "I attempted to kiss her once, but she rebuffed me," he replied. "She said she couldn't do that to you."

Ron nodded slowly. "You were a good friend to her long before we broke up," he commented. "And I was a git."

"I'm sorry," Harry prompted, elbowing him in the ribs. Scowling, Ron repeated him. "Good, now should we get lunch or do the two of you have somewhere to be?"

Draco returned to work and, bypassing his own office, entered Hermione's. He had finally convinced her that she needed to return, citing the mountains of work that had piled up during her weeks-long absence. The stacks, magicked not to fall down, surrounded her, blocked her from view. He rounded her desk and massaged her shoulders.

"How are you, love?" he murmured.

"Tired," she replied, placing her arms on her desk to act as a pillow. "Don't ever stop doing that. It feels good."

He continued his efforts and bent down to kiss the crown of her head. "Ya know, when I mentioned that you had a lot of work to do, I didn't mean it all had to be done in one day," he commented.

"I'm an idiot," she muttered. "I knew this would happen. And what did I do? I spent the last week wallowing following a three week sabbatical. I'm an idiot."

Draco chuckled. "No one would ever think you're an idiot," he assured her.

She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'm the brightest witch of our age, and I'm never wrong," she retorted. "Therefore, I am right about being an idiot."

"I'm not gonna touch that one," he decided, moving away from her. He took a seat in front of her desk and watched her work. She scribbled furiously, flipping through document after document, folder after folder. "I had lunch with Ron and Harry today," he told her casually.

"And you're still walking. Congrats," she replied, moving onto another stack of papers.

He shifted in his chair. "Are you mad that I did?" he asked.

Sighing, she looked up from her work. "No, I'm sorry," she replied tiredly. "So, you had lunch with Ron? How did that go?"

Draco shrugged. "I think it went well," he told her. "There was no cursing or hexing or jinxing. We talked like two civilized adults. He chews with him mouth open, but I was the bigger man and didn't mention it to him. Thought you'd be proud of me for that."

"Extremely," she replied. "It's good to know you can get along with him."

He nodded. "Yeah, well there was another reason I wanted to talk to him," he stated. "Um, we talked about you."

Releasing a breath, she closed her file and stared at him. "Okay, you have my full attention now," she stated. "Why were you talking about me?"

"Because they're your friends and they care about you," he replied. Hermione scoffed. "They do. In fact, he mentioned family dinner this Sunday. Invited me to come. I figured if you're nice to me, you can be my plus one."

"You're going to the Burrow for dinner?" she asked disbelievingly.

Draco smiled. "Yes, and you're going with me."


	23. Chapter 23

The Epilogue will be coming soon!

* * *

Chapter 23  
The Burrow seemed to grow larger and more ominous with each step Hermione took towards it. Her heart pounded rapidly and loudly, drowning out whatever it was that Draco was saying to her. He squeezed her hand to get her attention, and she turned to look at him.

"Quit worrying," he told her. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

"Sure, nothing," she replied. "Just a dozen angry redheads."

"Who've missed you and want to see you again," he added. "Ron said so."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you really trust whatever Ron says?" she inquired.

"No," he said, trying to hide a smile. "But Harry backed him up, and I trust Harry."

She smiled as they approached the front door. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," she told him.

He kissed her quickly before knocking on the door. "Good, I like when you're happy," he replied. "You've been far too unhappy lately."

"I'm happy when I'm with you," she stated, smiling at him.

The door opened to reveal George Weasley. "Get a room," he teased, grabbing Hermione's free hand. "Better yet, we'll get a room and toss Draco here to the wolves. Or Mum. Which do you reckon would be less terrifying?"

"Wolves," Draco and Hermione said in unison.

George grinned. "Well, I guess it wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to steal your girl," he decided. "Besides, you might need her for protection. Get on in here now!"

They did as he ordered and were greeted by Arthur Weasley, who quickly pulled Hermione into a hug. "So good to see you again, my dear," he said jovially. "Imagine this - you and Draco Malfoy. I remember when he used to tag along with his father at the Ministry. He once tried to liberate the owls we used for interdepartmental memos. Said it wasn't fair to keep them cooped up inside all day."

Hermione laughed loudly. "I can't picture that - Draco Malfoy, animal lover," she responded.

"Yeah, well, that stopped when I was turned into a ferret," he muttered.

"Ah, yes," Ron interjected. "One of the better days of my life."

"You weren't there," Harry said, coming up to greet the couple. He shook Draco's hand. "I, however, was. And it was one of the better days of my life."

A chorus of laughter rang out, and Hermione forced herself to hold back a smile. "Go ahead, laugh," Draco told her, stifling his own chuckle.

"Sorry, mate," Harry said, clapping him on the back. "Have you met everyone? Bill, Fleur, Charlie? I reckon you already know George from school. And Molly is toiling away in the kitchen. Won't see her until dinner is served, and even then she won't sit down long enough to eat with us."

Draco nodded, marvelling at the family dynamic. His own mother rarely set foot in the kitchen, and never had a hand in making a meal. But this was a loving, involved family who genuinely seemed to care for one another enough to make an effort to show up for a simple family dinner. He felt a twinge of regret for all the horrible things he had said about the Weasley family over the years.

"We should go say hi to her," Hermione said, tugging on his hand. With a nod of his head, he followed her to the kitchen.

It was warm and fragrant, and Molly Weasley hummed to herself as she put the finishing touches on a shepherd's pie. She turned and smiled at the pair. Putting the pie down, she shuffled over and pulled Hermione in a loving, motherly embrace. "Oh, my dear," she exclaimed. "Oh, it's so good to have you home again. And I made your favorite. The pie is yours to take home. Have you been eating at all? You're so skinny."

"She eats," Draco assured the older woman. "Trust me. And if you don't believe me, come over and count the Magnum ice cream wrappers on her nightstand."

Molly pulled away and smiled at Draco, moving in to give him a hug as well. "Thank you for bringing her back," she whispered in his ear.

If he was surprised by her gratitude, he didn't let it show. "You're welcome," he replied. "She seems happier being back here."

"I think so too," Molly replied with a smile.

Hermione watched the friendly exchange between Draco and the Weasley matriarch, and wondered how things had changed so quickly. "Molly, do we have time before dinner for me to show Draco the orchard?" she asked, wanting to get him away from the house so she could get some answers.

Molly nodded, promising that dinner would be on the table in twenty minutes. Assuring her they would be back in time, Hermione led Draco outside. The early fall air was cool as the sun began to set, and they strolled quietly until they reached the apple trees near the edge of the property.

"I know what's on your mind," he said softly. "I told you they missed you. Making nice with me is the only solution we could come up with to get you back here."

Hermione stopped and leaned against the nearest tree. "So, this is all an act?" she inquired, one eyebrow raised. "You were actually disgusted when Molly hugged you and thought about cursing Arthur for relaying a kind story about you. I'm sure he could have thought of at least thirty stories about some bratty thing you did as a child."

"Hell, _you_ could come up with thirty of those stories all on your own," he retorted. "No, it was genuinely nice to be greeted like that. It wasn't an act, not on my part."

"So, you really are making an effort to be nice to them just for me?" she asked.

He stepped forward and placed his hands on her waist. "You know I would do anything for you," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

Hermione smiled against his lips before allowing him to deepen the kiss. When he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, she grinned at him. "Draco, will you marry me?" she asked.

One hand fell away from her hip, and slipped into his pocket. "Yes, I will," he replied, holding up the ring her mother had given him. "I believe I can give this to you now."

"It was my mother's," she murmured as he slipped it onto her finger. "She gave it to you?"

Draco nodded. "I thought for sure you'd seen it," he replied.

She smiled and looked down at the ring now on her finger. "Means there's hope of them forgiving me," she said.


	24. Epilogue

Epilogue  
"He didn't come," the newly married Hermione Malfoy said as she and Draco awaited their introduction into the reception tent.

"Love, we knew he wasn't going to," Draco replied, concerned that her father's absence would put a damper on her evening. "It was nice of Ron to walk you down the aisle though. Thought it might be awkward. The ex-boyfriend giving away the girl he loved to another man. I'm amazed at the things you can convince someone to do."

Hermione scowled as she tugged on the train of her dress. "Couldn't convince my father to show up for my wedding," she muttered.

He wound his arms around her waist and held her close. "Hey, happy thoughts only today," he murmured. "Can I just revel in the fact that I get to call you my wife now?"

With a smile on her face, she kissed him. "Only if I can do the same," she replied.

"Deal," he replied as he heard their names called. "Listen to that - Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

With a nod of her head, she allowed him to escort her into the reception tent. Cheers and applause sounded from the assembled audience, all glad to share in their celebration. Her mother sat beside Molly Weasley. Both women had tears in their eyes as the newlyweds entered and took center stage for their first dance.

"That's my dress, you know," Jane told her. "She looks better in it than I did."

Molly smiled good-naturedly. "You have a beautiful daughter," she commented. "And Draco has changed so much. She's been good for him."

"I think he's been good for her too. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him," Jane replied. Molly looked at her curiously. "It was his idea that she try again to find us. And when they got engaged, he came back to Australia to try to talk some sense into her father. I had already made up my mind to return, but Bob is stubborn. Hermione gets that from him. I didn't want to regret missing out on this - the planning, the ceremony - because I didn't like the way she handled things. She saved us though. How can I stay mad at my daughter for trying to protect me?"

"That's her greatest fear," Molly confided. "That you and her father would never forgive her."

Jane nodded sadly. The couple's dance ended, and Mr. Weasley rose to dance with the bride for the traditional father/daughter dance. "I know this isn't what she had in mind," she said. "But I appreciate your husband filling in."

"He loves her," Molly told her. "Arthur has always treated Hermione like his own daughter. He was honored that she asked him to do this."

The music slowed, though the song wasn't over. Jane stared at the dance floor and the man making his way to the center. She gasped at the sight of her husband, and prayed that all would go well. Draco approached the table calmly and sat down beside his new mother-in-law. He smiled knowingly and patted her shoulder.

"What did you do?" she asked nervously.

The groom shrugged. "We talked," he said cryptically.

"What did you say?" she inquired, brown eyebrows knitting together.

"It's funny. Hermione makes that same face when she's nervous and losing her patience with me," he remarked. Jane huffed and narrowed her eyes. "Another face Hermione makes. Anyhow, about a week ago, I told Hermione I had to go on a short business trip. She got mad at me because it was a week before the wedding and I still hadn't picked up my tux and she had a list a mile long for me to complete before today. But I was adamant that I had to go, that there was no way of getting out of it. So, against her wishes, I went back to Australia to talk to Mr. Granger. He hates me, did you know that? Let me know it quite a few times. Imagine my surprise when he actually let me in to present my case."

Molly sighed. "Sweetheart, are you getting to the point any time soon?" she asked.

Draco nodded. "So, he lets me in and we talk," he continued. "I told him that we were getting married and how Hermione was driving herself crazy planning every little detail. I vetoed the our faces on the soap idea, by the way. Anyway, then I told him that the one thing she couldn't seem to make work was the father/daughter dance because he had yet to RSVP. He said he had no intentions of coming."

"So you used the Imperius Curse on him?" Molly asked, aghast.

He chuckled. "No, no Unforgivables were involved," he promised. "I went for a slightly more muggle tactic - guilt. Told him she'd been depressed, hadn't been eating or sleeping, and that frankly, her work had begun to suffer since we left Australia. He seemed concerned about her, which appeared to be a complete 180 from the last time I saw him. To make a long story short-"

"Too late," Jane mumbled.

Draco smiled. "I told him that if he cared about her at all, he'd show up today," he concluded. "He could go back to never speaking to her again if he just came today."

With tears in her eyes, Jane embraced her new son. "Thank you, Draco," she murmured. "This will mean the world to her."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione whispered, plastering on a smile so all would think she was thrilled.

The grin her father wore faltered, but he continued to hold her close. "I wanted to apologize," he said. "When your mother left, I knew I had messed up. Stubbornness is not one of my more attractive qualities. I've had a lot of time to think. About you. About what you did. And I kept asking myself - why can't I forgive you?"

Hermione stopped moving and her grip on his hand slackened. "So...you haven't-"

He shook his head. "No, sweetheart, because I realized I shouldn't have to forgive you," he replied. "I spent years knowing my little girl was different, that you could do things that other people couldn't. And you put your gifts to good use. I just...I hope one day you can forgive me for my foolishness."

"I'm glad you're here," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I am too," he replied with a smile. "And I'm not going anywhere now that I am here."

The song came to a close and he led his daughter off of the dance floor. "What changed your mind?" she wondered.

"Your husband," he replied. "He came to see me last week, to talk. I'll admit he carried most of the conversation. He told me about his father. Sounds like a real charmer if you ask me."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, yeah. Lucius is the best," she said facetiously. "What did he tell you?"

Her father shrugged. "That they didn't get along," he shared. "That he's been in prison for awhile now, and that it bothers him that he doesn't care that he might never see him again. He told me he wished he loved and missed his own father the way you loved and missed me."

"And that worked?" she wondered. Robert nodded solemnly. "I believe the term silver-tongued devil was coined just for my husband. I'll have to thank him for what he did. Even if he did lie to me."

"Sometimes the ends justify the means," he agreed.

The next song ended, and Draco joined them. He held out a hand to his new father-in-law, and offered him a kind smile. "I'm glad you could come, sir," he said.

"It's all thanks to you," Robert replied, shaking his hand. "If you'll excuse me, I should go find your mother. I'm sure she was quite surprised to see me here."

Draco pulled her into his arms and watched Robert cross the dance floor. "Think they'll be okay?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "I think so," she replied as her mother greeted her father with a loving hug. "Thank you for doing this. All of this."

He shrugged and kissed her. "Thanks for moving in with me two years ago."

"My pleasure."

The End.


End file.
